A Fateful Trip
by chill13
Summary: No phones, no lights, no motor cars! When a shortcut to Earth sends Voyager to the wrong century they have troubles enough. But who would have thought they would meet a group of castaways with the same goal…to get home. And both just may reach that goal…if only they could keep Gilligan out of Engineering.
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter 1**

Captain Kathryn Janeway stood in the center of the bridge, her muscles tense with excitement. A million butterflies fluttered in her stomach as she listened to the voice that came over the comm.

"We can do this Captain!" Lieutenant Reginald Barclay's eager exclamation filled Voyager's bridge. They couldn't see him but his voice clearly carried his nervous and somewhat neurotic personality. Today mixed in with that shy nervousness was exuberant hope.

His excitement was mirrored on the faces of the entire bridge crew. They had never met Barclay in person. He was many thousands of lightyears away, on Earth. But he had already done the impossible for them, located their little lost ship on the other side of the galaxy and, through the channel of a micro-wormhole, established regular communication. After so many years lost in the Delta Quadrant Voyager was finally able to contact Earth. And it was all thanks to Lieutenant Reginald Barclay and the Pathfinder Project.

But what he was proposing now…it was just too good to be true.

"Widen the micro-wormhole?" Janeway asked. "But how?"

"Well, right now we are using tachyon particles to create the wormhole. But they're just barely strong enough to convey the…the data stream we're using now. But…" He paused dramatically. "…if we used _chronoton_ particles. They're ten times stronger. If we could combine the two they would feed off each other's gravimetric energy, widening the wormhole enough to…to fit Voyager through."

"Chronoton particles?" The proposal was daring. "But wouldn't that cause a temporal flux?"

"Negligible. Point three, maybe four. As…As long as we keep them strictly regulated it…um… shouldn't be a problem."

"When can we start?" She didn't care if she sounded overanxious. She had been struggling, fighting to get this ship home for so long, and so many times the rug had been yanked out from under them to send their hopes crashing to the ground. But now they had help, Starfleet's help. And she was confidant that would make all the difference.

Commander Pete Harkin's voice replied. He was the man in charge of the Pathfinder organization. "We need to begin immediately. The neutrino activity in the pulsar is at its peak. We've only got one shot at this."

"What do you want us to do?" Janeway asked, eager for the rescue they had been waiting for so long.

"Nothing." Harkins answered. "It's all done from this end. When the wormhole is large and stable enough we'll signal you to come through."

"It'll work." Barclay assured, sounding more confident than anyone had ever heard him. "All the numbers check out. We've tested every…every scenario in the holodeck and…"

Hawkins interrupted. "The gravimetric distortions from the wormhole may interfere with communications."

Janeway nodded. "Understood."

There was an encouraging smile in Harkins' voice. "Here's to a safe homecoming."

"We look forward to meeting you both in person."

"Likewise, Captain." Barclay said, then added. "Don't worry it'll work."

They broke the connection and the bridge was engulfed in a stunned hush. The only break in the silence was a few blips from the computer.

It seemed like a lifetime ago when the Voyager had first left spacedock at Deep Space Nine in search of a tiny group of terrorists. And surely it was an eternity since that distortion wave hit the ship, carrying it clear across the galaxy, so very far from home. Two crews, once enemies, had been forced to become family, working together to keep their vessel on a sure course back home. But simply flying home was not enough. They all knew that even at high warp it would take them seventy years to reach the fringes of the Alpha Quadrant. They were much closer now, having found ways to speed their travels. But Earth was still many years away.

Now they were being offered an unbelievable opportunity. It was almost too good to be true.

The silence was broken when Harry Kim's excited voice spoke up from the Operations console behind her. "Neutrino emissions are increasing. The wormhole is growing. It's working!" She turned to see him smiling from ear to ear, his black eyes shining like his ebony hair. He looked as if he were about ready to burst. The young man never was one to curb his exuberance and despite his attempts he always wore his emotions on his proverbial sleeve. It was a quality Captain Janeway found to be quite endearing. He had first come aboard Voyager very young and very green, both excited and nervous about his first mission. He had grown into a trusted and experienced officer, but of all her crew, Harry's homesickness showed the most. "It's ten meters across now…thirty…sixty."

Janeway turned toward the forward viewscreen where the wormhole appeared as a pinprick of light and quickly expanded, blossoming like a huge, luminous rose in the blackness of space. Deep purple edges swirled toward a glowing center as bright as Earth's yellow sun. The dazzling spectacle reflected in her wide eyes and lit the bridge in lavender-hued hope. Hope that finally, their six-year sojourn was over.

She felt a presence at her left shoulder as Chakotay moved beside her. "Looks like this is it." The tall Native American smiled down at her, slightly warping the intricate tattoo that adorned the left side of his forehead. It had been just over six years ago she had considered this man an enemy, a terrorist threat to the Federation. Now, he was a loyal first officer and a trusted friend. She scarcely made a move without consulting his tranquil wisdom. He turned back to the screen, clearly just as awed as she was. "Did you ever see anything so beautiful?"

"The wormhole has reached one point three kilometers and holding, Captain." Came Tuvok's ever-calm voice from tactical. Unlike the rest of the crew he showed no signs of excitement. Janeway knew that he was just as eager to return to the Alpha Quadrant and be reunited with his family. But, as always, he kept any emotions buried under that stoic Vulcan exterior.

Janeway tapped the commbadge on her chest, opening a channel to the Astrometric Lab. "Seven—"

Seven of Nine's efficient, no-nonsense voice interrupted. "The wormhole appears stable, Captain, although quite turbulent." Not one for protocol, the liberated Borg drone occasionally found waiting for someone to finish a sentence that she had already anticipated to be an inefficient use of her time. Due to her remaining cybernetic implants she probably had more raw knowledge than any human that had ever lived but after being rescued from the collective only two years ago her social skills as an individual were still developing.

Janeway was too preoccupied to even notice the breach in protocol. "Are we getting anything from Starfleet?"

Harry frowned and tapped at the console. "Nothing, Captain. Like Seven said there's a lot of turbulence in there. It could be affecting their signal." He examined the readings a moment more. "Yeah, I don't think they could get a message through if they tried."

"Well, lets go before this thing closes on us!" Tom Paris urged from his seat just in front of the viewscreen. "I can smell the pizza already." His muscles were tense and his hands poised just above the flight control panel with barely enough restraint to wait for his Captain's order. A stricter captain might not have tolerated Tom's quirky, sarcastic humor. But Janeway found that despite the breach in protocol the pilot's out-of-turn quips often eased tense situations.

Janeway shook her head. Just because she wanted this to work didn't mean she was going to grow careless. "I'm not prepared to go into this blind. Send in a class 4 probe. If it makes it through safely we'll follow."

Having already anticipated her order Tuvok gave his console one tap. "Probe launched."

They all watched the viewscreen anxiously as the little cylinder flew out ahead of the ship in a streak of light, heading towards the huge mouth of the wormhole. It would take a few moments for the probe to reach the other side.

"Why pizza?" Chakotay asked, breaking the heart pounding silence.

Tom shrugged, eager to fill the tense moments between launching the probe and getting an answer from it. "Something I've been craving for awhile. The replicators do a lousy job and I'm afraid to even ask Neelix. He'd probably try to 'improve' the recipe. I would not classify leola root pizza as comfort food."

A snicker of agreement lilted through the bridge. Neelix, their resident cook and moral officer, had a tendency to spice his cooking to his own alien tastes, forgetting at times that Talaxian culinary arts didn't always agree with the human pallet.

"We're getting telemetry from the wormhole." Harry said anxiously, piping the images from the probe to the forward viewscreen. The video feed showed the probe navigating through the colorful tunnel, ropes of energy swirling around it. As it exited the wormhole the colors vanished, replaced by black dotted by flecks of light. In the center of was a beautiful blue and green planet with veils of swirling white wafting over its surface.

Janeway took a step closer to the screen as if the image had seized her by the heart and pulled her forward. Her large eyes misted at the apparition before her. _Home._

"I can't believe it." Harry's voice hushed with reverence.

Tom too sounded more subdued than usual. "After all this time here's a door right to our back porch."

"Captain. I'm down here in Astrometrics." B'Elanna's voice came over the intercom, her tone breaking the mood. "I hate to be the bearer of bad news down here but we're getting some unusual readings."

There was a collective sigh as if the bridge had just deflated. 'Unusual readings' could not mean anything good. _Too good to be true._

"There is a phase variance of eleven point two four in the radiation stream as well as distorted energy readings indicative of temporal shift." Seven's precise voice announced.

Janeway tried not to look disappointed but it was no use. Her body sagged a little and she let out a despondent breath. "Right place. Wrong time."

"The 1960's to be precise." B'Elanna added

Tom straightened in his chair. "Really?" He sounded more intrigued than disappointed. The young man's affinity with the Twentieth Century was no secret. Ancient combustion vehicles were his hobby and 'rock and roll' his music. He also had a fascination with television and cinema, the archaic two-dimensional entertainment of the time.

"So close." This time Harry's whisper was saturated with dashed hope.

Janeway sank into her chair and stared blankly at the viewscreen. _And yet so far._ When they had first realized that Voyager had been stranded in the Delta Quadrant she had made her crew a promise. She would get this ship, this crew, home. And she had every intention of keeping that promise. She forced herself to sit up straight and willed a tone of optimism into her voice. "Well, so much for that shortcut. Let's get back on course."

"Captain." Janeway turned a bit in her chair so she could look at Harry. "The probe's guidance system is failing. I think it was knocked out during its passage through the wormhole. It's headed…" Harry's slanted eyes widened at the readout and he looked up slowly. "Straight for Earth."

"Are you sure?"

He nodded. "It's on a collision course, Captain. It'll hit for sure."

"Sound's like the probe wants to go home as much as we do." Tom said.

Tuvok chose to ignore the suggestion of sentience applied to an inanimate object. "If such a sophisticated piece of equipment is discovered in that era it will have massive repercussions."

"The timeline would be severely altered." Chakotay agreed.

"Just what I need, another temporal infraction on my record." Janeway said wryly. "You're right. We've got to get it back."

The viewscreen switched from the probes' video feed to the massive wormhole that lay directly before the starship. It was no longer a beacon, a symbol of hope. Its swirling purple light had taken on a sinister quality. Sensors told them the weather was rough in there.

Again Janeway opened a channel to Astrometrics, where her chief engineer currently was. "B'Elanna, how long will it take to reinforce the shields?"

"Just a few minutes."

"Do it."

True to her word B'Elanna and her efficient engineering crew completed the procedure in under five minutes.

Janeway turned forward to address the Conn. "Well, Tom, it looks like your dream come true. Take us in."

"Aye, Captain!" A childlike eagerness lit his blue eyes as his fingers danced across the console, steering the huge starship toward the interstellar gateway.

Swirls of lavender energy greeted the starship with violent turbulence. The deck bucked and vibrated beneath the crew's feet. "Red Alert!" Janeway cried as she was thrown from her chair. The lights dimmed to a glowing blue and flashing red as she scrambled back into her seat, this time digging her nails into the armrests.

"Shields down to eighty percent." Tuvok's ever calm voice announced from tactical.

Sparks sprayed the bridge as a station to the right exploded, sending a crew member springing away with a pained shout. For a moment it seemed that all everyone could do was just hang on and hope the ship wouldn't hurl them to the ceiling. Tom tried valiantly to keep a firm grip with one hand and steer with the other but the chair kept trying to throw him out. "Why doesn't this thing come with seat belts?"

Finally the deck stabilized as the purple hurricane vanished from the viewscreen and was replaced by the familiar peaceful starfield. Only now in the center of that star-peppered blackness was a beautiful blue and green globe orbited by one tiny white satellite.

"Captain." Harry's voice rang through the darkened bridge. "The probe's already crashed."

Janeway's head snapped up. "Where?" If it had landed in a populated area they were in a lot of trouble.

"On a small island about three hundred miles South East of Hawaii."


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

_Whack!_

The Skipper moved another nail into position and drew back his hammer.

_Whack!_

He couldn't believe it. It had been a whole year! One whole grueling _year_ marooned on a deserted island. Exactly twelve long months ago his little charter boat, the _Minnow_ had set out on that fateful three-hour tour. It was about this time of day too, just a little after eleven. They had only been an hour into the tour when the storm hit.

_Whack!_

Why hadn't he seen it coming? He was an experienced sailor. He should have recognized the danger and turned back. The passenger's safety was his responsibility.

_Whack!_

Gilligan looked up from where he stood. One hand steadied the ladder the Skipper stood on and the other held an open comic book. "Skipper, if you don't lighten up with that hammer you'll knock the whole hut down."

"Don't tell me how to do my job, Gilligan!" He snapped, glancing down at his slight first mate. His eyes narrowed as he saw what the young man was holding. "Is that a comic book?"

Gilligan nodded excitedly. "Yeah, it's one of my favorites. 'X-Ray Man Meets the Aliens From the Fifth Dimension'. In this one X-Ray Man and his lovable sidekick, Speedo, the supersonic dachshund, are abducted by aliens! But they don't look like aliens because they're shape-shifters that have taken human form. And I'm just at the scary part. X-Ray Man is strapped to this operation table in their fiendish laboratory and they're just about to—"

"You're supposed to be holding the ladder, not reading that garbage."

Gilligan looked indignant. "It's not garbage, Skipper. Besides, I can do both."

"Gilligan, you can't even chew gum and walk at the same time! Now put that comic book down. That's an order!"

"Yes, sir." The young man sighed and tossed the well used pages to a nearby bench. The Skipper knew he meant well. Gilligan always meant well. The young man didn't have a mean bone in his body. But despite all his amiable loyalty the boy was simply a walking disaster area. No matter how simple the task the Skipper had to keep his crew-of-one focused or the project would end up in ruins.

"You're doing a marvelous job there, Captain!" The Skipper turned slightly to see Mr. Howell stride up to the base of the ladder, his wife at his arm and a tropical drink in one hand. "Howell Manor is looking as good as new."

"Yeah, it was lookin' pretty bad before. It's a good thing we were in that big ole cave and weren't down here. That storm was worse than the one that shipwrecked us..." Gilligan glanced up at the captain. "…huh, Skipper?"

"Yeah." He mumbled noncommittally.

"Yes, Captain, the roof looks positively splendid!" Mrs. Howell gushed with a wave of her gloved hand. "Perhaps we could hire you to repair our house in Florida. It would be steady work."

"Fixing a roof would be steady work?" The Skipper gave the two millionaires a quizzical look.

"It's a marvelous place, right on the beach, you know." Mr. Howell gestured expansively with his riding crop. "But dash it all every time there's one of those blasted hurricanes we lose a few shingles."

"A few shingles? Darling, last year we lost the whole roof!"

"Yes, it was quite topless." Mr. Howell said with a laugh as he and his wife moved off to find a more intriguing pastime than watching the two sailors work. "And those pesky alligators kept getting in the swimming pool."

The Skipper shook his head a bit. The two multi-millionaires had adapted amazingly well to island living. Or perhaps it wasn't _they_ who had adapted. The couple had all but brought society with them. Mr. Howell had created a small golf course and lounged around as if he were a guest at a country club and not marooned on a deserted island. Mrs. Howell enjoyed organizing parties for the castaways, even if both the hors dourves and the main course consisted of nothing but fruit and fish.

"Hear that, Skipper?" Gilligan said as he watched the Howells leave. "You already got a job all lined up when we get rescued."

The Skipper rolled his eyes a bit and drove another nail. "You mean '_if_'."

"We'll get rescued, Skipper. You'll see."

The Skipper gave a cynical snort.

"Even if we don't…" Gilligan gave a little shrug. "We're doin' alright here, you know?"

" 'Alright?' " He looked down sharply. "Are we stranded on the _same_ island? The one visited by headhunters and typhoons?"

Gilligan frowned at the Captain's angry tone. "Don't get sore at me. I didn't invite either of them."

"I'm not sore!" The Skipper shouted testily.

"Then I'd hate to see you happy." Gilligan mumbled too himself, just barely loud enough for his captain to hear. The Skipper seemed more irritable than usual today.

"Shut up and hold the ladder!" The Skipper drove another nail. _A whole year_. The storm had hit so suddenly. One minute the sky was clear and blue and the next black clouds rolled in from nowhere and quickly drown the sun. He hadn't known it at the time but that first lightning bolt and roar of thunder had marked a fateful turning point in seven people's lives. Lives under his charge.

"Hello boys." Mary Ann greeted them cheerfully as she approached with a tray of bamboo glasses, her dark ponytails bouncing with the sprightly spring in her step. "You have been working all morning and I thought you might be thirsty." She set the tray on the table next to Gilligan's discarded comic book and flashed them both a brilliant smile. The young Kansas farm girl had such a disposition that if she was happy, and she usually was, she could make a dungeon seem like a field of flowers.

"Thanks, Mary Ann!" Gilligan eagerly snatched up one of the glasses. The movement was a little too fast and some of the bright yellow juice sloshed over the brim and splattered on his red shirt. It quickly seeped into the fabric creating a dark orange blotch in the middle of his chest.

"Oh, Gilligan." Mary Ann cocked her head and put her hands on her hips in feigned annoyance.

"Whoops." Gilligan gave a small nervous laugh. He wiped at the spot with his hand as if he might brush the liquid off like a piece of lint. The futile attempt only smeared the stain and coated his fingers with the sticky substance. With a mildly disgusted grimace he wiped his hand on his pant leg.

"Gilligan." The Skipper shook his head with a sigh as he stepped off the ladder onto the ground. The young man could not do _anything_ without some kind of incident. "Do you need a bib?"

Gilligan ignored the sarcasm, picked up another glass and held it out to the Skipper. "Want some? It's, heh, nice and cold." He glanced with a sheepish smile down at his shirt.

The big man took a step back, certain that any second he too would be wet and yellow. "Careful with that. _You_ may like to wear it but I'd rather drink mine." He gingerly took the cup and gave a small sigh of relief when it was safely out of Gilligan's hand.

Gilligan gave the captain a sly grin. "Yeah, orange isn't your color anyway."

Mary Ann brushed one ponytail behind her shoulder as she looked up at the hut. "It's looking really good. I'm surprised at how fast you two are getting at this."

Gilligan blushed a little. "Thanks. You know the Howell's said they'd give us a construction job when we get rescued. Right, Skipper?" He grinned proudly and put a hand down to lean on the table in a pose he thought might convey competence. Instead he missed the table altogether and simply toppled sideways like a felled tree. He let out a surprised squawk and with flailing arms managed to catch a table leg, dragging the whole thing down with him. The next moment he found himself sitting awkwardly in the sand beside the overturned table with Mary Ann's tray in his lap and a comic book on his head.

"Little Buddy, I think you'd be better off in demolition." The Skipper said as he yanked Gilligan to his feet. He had a feeling this was going to be another one of those days.

"Are you alright?" Mary Ann asked, plucking the comic book from off his head.

"Yeah." He dusted himself off, looking only slightly embarrassed as he handed her back her tray. "I think one of the legs on this table is shorter."

The Skipper's mouth quirked to one side. "It's got nothing to do with the table."

"Mary Ann!" Called a breathy Marilyn Monroe voice. Moments later Ginger appeared around the supply hut. She glided over to them like she was modeling the long, sparkling evening gown that hugged her tall curving form. "Hi, boys." She gave Gilligan and the Skipper a small wink. "How's the work coming?"

"Fine, Ginger." The Skipper touched the brim of his captain's hat and gave the actress a little nod. "I think we'll be done pretty soon. Then we'll start working on you girls' hut."

"Oh, good!" She glanced thoughtfully at the makeshift structure that was not much more than bamboo poles and palm fronds. "You know I was in a movie once where they built a hut like this."

"Really?" Gilligan asked, intrigued.

She nodded. "Only that hut was underwater."

"Underwater?" Gilligan's dark eyebrows raised while the Skipper and Mary Ann swapped a curious glance. "What kinda movie was that?"

"It was called 'Captain Nemo Meets Robinson Crusoe'." She gave them a small self-important giggle. "I played the mermaid."

The Skipper grinned. "That would have made some fish story!"

That brought a round of chuckles from all four of them.

"Ginger…" Mary Ann said after a moment. "You wanted me for something?"

The movie star let out a little squeak. "Oh! I forgot how long you said that fish should cook. Was it fifteen or…"

Gilligan interrupted, his nose wrinkled and his forehead creased quizzically. "Do you guys smell something burning?"

Mary Ann's brown eyes widened and her little turned-up nose sniffed the air. Her mouth dropped open with a gasp and she took off in the direction of the kitchen. "Oh, no!" Ginger followed close behind, trotting comically on her impossibly high heels.

"Well…" The Skipper watched them go with a resigned sigh. "Looks like it's pineapples, bananas and coconuts for lunch again."

Gilligan nodded. "Yup."

"Do I smell smoke?"

Both men jumped at the unexpected voice behind them.

"I'm sorry." The Professor's blue eyes twinkled in amusement. Once, as a study in the psychological effects of comedy, he had watched a Laurel and Hardy film. He hadn't found it the least amusing. But his two friends never ceased to keep him entertained. "I didn't mean to startle you." He held up a thin coil of braided hemp. "I thought you might need some more lashings for the bamboo supports."

"Ginger burned the fish." Gilligan offered, answering the high school teacher's earlier question.

"Thanks, Professor." The Skipper took the rope gratefully. "But what we really need is more nails." He gave a small nod to the tin can that sat at the base of the ladder. Only a handful of nails remained in the bottom.

Their resident scientist shrugged helplessly. "I wish I could help. But the only real metallic ore I can find on this island is lead. Not only is it toxic but it's far too malleable."

Gilligan perked up as a thought struck him. "Maybe a hardware ship'll sink somewhere and a box of nails will float up in the lagoon." Considering all of the things that had washed up on their little island so far Gilligan didn't think his scenario was the least bit far-fetched.

The Professor chuckled and the Skipper rolled his eyes. "Gilligan, do you really think a box full of nails is going to _float_?"

Gilligan shrugged a little, not quite ready to give up his theory. "If it wasn't too heavy." He started to duck but wasn't quick enough to miss a smart whack over the head from the Skipper's hat.

The Professor turned away with a barely concealed grin and focused his attention on the hut. He crossed his arms thoughtfully as he considered the work-in-progress. "You know, Skipper, if you were to arrange the bamboo supports in a triangular pattern the hut would be more durable."

The burly sailor frowned. "What do you mean?"

"The triangle is the most structurally sound shape. Its geometry is such that it can withstand much greater stress than…"

Gilligan was no longer listening. The Professor was using big words again and the sky had caught his attention. A spark of light appeared in the powder blue atmosphere. It quickly grew into a burning ball streaking down toward the earth until it disappeared behind the veil of jungle. It had happened so fast. If he had blinked he would have missed it. "Wow!" He gasped. "Did you see that?"

Both the Skipper and Professor turned. Gilligan was staring upward, his mouth agape and his blue eyes wide.

"See what?" The Skipper finally asked.

Gilligan shook his head a little then turned to the two other men. "I don't know. I think it was a shooting star. And boy was it a whopper!"

The Skipper rolled his eyes. "Gilligan', that's the most ridiculous thing I've ever heard. You can't see a shooting star in the daytime. It was probably just a bird."

Gilligan looked both confused and offended. "That was on fire?"

The Professor looked thoughtfully up at the sky. "It _could_ have been a meteorite."

"A what?" Gilligan asked.

"Shooting star." The Professor offered, remembering that any scientific lingo flew far above the first mate's head.

"I just said that."

The high school teacher gave the young man a wary smile and continued with a glance toward the Skipper. "Sometimes you can see them during the day if they're fairly close."

"It looked real close!" Gilligan was becoming more excited by the second. "I bet I could find it."

"I doubt it." The Professor said. "It probably never even reached the ground. Most meteors are incinerated on their decent through the stratosphere."

"This one did hit the ground. I saw it!"

"Even if it did manage to survive the heat and atmospheric friction it wouldn't be much more than a pebble. You'd have quite a time finding it."

"Well, I'm gonna look anyhow." Gilligan said as he started off toward the jungle, eager anticipation written all over his young face. "Boy, it would sure be swell to find a rock from space!"

"Just what you need an addition to your junk collection. Where do you think you're going? We're not done yet."

"I won't be long." Gilligan didn't look back but waved an assuring hand in the Skipper's direction. "I think I know exactly where it landed." With that he disappeared into the lush foliage.

The Skipper let out an annoyed huff, staring at the spot where his first mate and construction partner had vanished. "What am I going to do with that boy?"


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

"Well, that was fun." Tom quipped as he climbed back into the Conn seat. "Now who's up for a ride in the teacups?"

Janeway raked a hand through her hair, pulling the strands away from her eyes as she rose from her chair. The bridge pulsed with the crimson Red Alert light making the room feel even more damaged than it was, as if the ship were bleeding. The engineering station to her right was completely black, dead, it's side slightly charred where electricity had crackled over the surface. A worried looking ensign stared at the workstation clearly pondering how close she had come to being electrocuted. In the back of the bridge a coolant leak hissed, hemorrhaging a cloud of white steam that shrouded the room in a blue-red mist. The forward viewscreen fritzed like an ancient television set that had lost reception. "Damage report!"

B'Elanna's voice answered over the speaker. She sounded a bit out of breath and seriously annoyed at her malfunctioning equipment. "We really took a beating in there. We've blown the EPS conduits and impulse engines are down. The transporters are shot, scanners are nothing but a tangle of corrupted subroutines and I've got a whole list of minor systems that are down."

"I want impulse engines and transporters up and running." Janeway said, setting priorities right then and there. "The longer that probe is down there the more likely someone will stumble across it."

"It'll take about two hours for the engines and maybe an hour and a half for the transporters."

"Get on it."

"Yes, Captain."

Janeway turned to the Vulcan at tactical. "Tuvok, what's the status of that wormhole?" She hoped that unlike some wormholes they had encountered this one didn't have the inclination to close abruptly. Being stranded in the Delta Quadrant was bad enough, but being stranded in another time was even worse.

"Due to the damage to the scanners I am unable to make an extensive examination, Captain. However, it appears to be stable. It should give us plenty of warning before it starts to destabilize."

'Appears' and 'should' were far too ambiguous for Janeway's liking. But until the scanners were repaired it was the best she was going to get. She hated waiting for repairs. "Harry, clear up that viewscreen. I don't like sitting here blind."

"Working on it." The young man's black eyebrows came together in concentration as he worked at his panel. After a long moment he looked up in satisfaction. "Got it."

The snow slowly faded as the large screen cleared. There it was: Earth. Right outside their window. It was so easy to imagine that they had finally come home. Janeway wouldn't have been surprised if they were hailed by Starfleet Headquarters. But alas this wasn't the home they knew. They were just a few hundred years off.

Tom sighed. "Close, but no cigar."

000

The Doctor hated it when Sickbay was full. The passage through the wormhole had been unusually rough to say the least and not everyone had been prepared for such a violent ride. The moment the deck stabilized patients began showing up. Eight crewmembers now crowded the four-biobed medical facility. The Doctor made a mental note to speak to the Captain about getting more beds.

He gave the patient that sat before him on the biobed a disapproving glance as he scanned his red, blistered hands. "Next time the Captain says we are coming into turbulence it might be wise to avoid boiling oil."

Neelix winced, both in pain and at the Doctor's cynical tone. He nodded just a bit, fluffing his blonde, mane-like mohawk. Of all Voyager's crewmembers Neelix looked the least human. His striking Talaxain spots, tiny ears, jaw-line whiskers and unusual hair made him look like a combination of a happy garden gnome and a blonde Scottish terrier. He gave the doctor a sheepish look. "I know. But I was right in the middle of making fried barsok dumplings and the timing is crucial. If you don't get them in the skillet at just the right moment the dough will turn gray and…"

"Yes, well, your culinary exploits could have waited until the ship wasn't bucking like a wild targ."

"I guess you're right." Neelix admitted. "The whole batch ended up on the floor anyway."

"That's okay." The little girl that stood at the Neelex's side gave him a reassuring pat on the leg. An errant lock of red hair fell across her forehead, covering the row of small horns that ran from between her eyebrows to her hairline. She tucked the strand behind her ear with one small finger. "I'll help you clean it up."

"Thank you, Naomi. That's very thoughtful."

"Mom says if I want to be a Captain's assistant I've got to take initiative." Naomi smiled proudly.

"She's right." The Doctor said as he finished scanning and reached for the dermal regenerator. "Hold still. This will only take a few moments." He assured Neelix as he tapped a few commands into the handheld device.

"This won't hurt, will it?" Neelix asked nervously as he held his blistered hands rigidly in front of him. He was already in a great deal of pain and he didn't think he could handle any more.

The Doctor frowned as if offended. "Don't be absurd!" He began running the instrument steadily over the burns, the bluish beam restoring the damaged tissue quickly and efficiently. Suddenly the Doctor's hand shimmered, becoming momentarily transparent as the tool fell through his palm and clattered to the floor. "Oh, dear!" He gasped, holding his flickering hand out before him. Looking down he was startled to find that it wasn't just his hand that was blinking in and out of existence but his entire body.

Neelix looked just as frightened as the Doctor. "What's happening?"

Naomi's mouth hung open and her blue eyes grew wide. "Are you okay?"

The other patients too were watching the physician anxiously. But none of them had enough experience with repairing holograms to offer any assistance.

The Doctor hurried over to the computer console and tapped at the control panel. "It looks like there was an EM surge in the Sickbay computer. My program has been damaged."

"Are you going to be alright?" The little girl asked again. "You're not going to destabilize are you?"

The Doctor's forehead wrinkled in concern. "I don't know." He tapped the silver and gold pin that adorned his chest. "Doctor to Lieutenant Torres."

B'Elanna's annoyed voice came over the comm. "Doctor I'm very busy. This better be important."

"My program is fluctuating and I'm loosing cohesion."

B'Elanna gave a small huff and with a couple taps at her engineering console brought up the schematics of the Doctor's program. She would have completely ignored him but she knew that the Doctor's symptoms could be a sign of something serious. If his program degraded they could lose him altogether. Thankfully what the readout told her was far from critical. "You've got an error in the forcefield controls of your solidity subroutines. Nothing serious."

"I have a sickbay full of patients and I can't even stay solid long enough to hold a hypospray. I find that _very_ serious."

"Are any of them in critical condition?"

"Well, no. But…"

"Then you can just call Tom to help you out because repairing your program would take at least half an hour and right now I'm drowning in transporters and impulse engines."

"But…"

"If you really need something done talk to Seven. B'Elanna out."

The Doctor scowled at the air in front of him, clearly offended at being hung up on. The lieutenant's bedside manner had much to be desired. He gave Neelix an apologetic shrug before again addressing the comm system. "Doctor to Seven."

"State your business quickly." Along with Seven's voice there was a 'clank' and the hum of an energy tool.

"I realize you must be busy but there seems to be an error in my program."

Despite her always-businesslike tone there was a clear hint of concern in her reply. "How extensive is the damage?"

"Well, Lieutenant Torres tells me I'm not about to decompile but there is a malfunction in my solidity subroutines."

"Can it wait until later?"

The Doctor let out a frustrated breath. "Yes. Technically it can. But it's difficult to treat my patients when I'm blinking on and off like an Artarian lightning bug. Not to mention it's _extremely_ disconcerting."

Seven of Nine's full lips straightened and the mechanical implant above her eye raised slightly as she crawled out from under the broken console. Voyager's Emergency Medical Hologram was one of her closest comrades. He had taught her much about her own emotions and how to handle herself around others, in essence he had helped her regain her humanity. He could also, however, be a very demanding individual. Her skin-tight body suit shimmered under the still-pulsing red alert lights as she moved to the only working station in Astrometrics. She pulled up a schematic of the Doctor's program onto the screen and quickly assessed the damage. As he had said there was a minor malfunction. She gave the console several quick taps. "There. That should temporarily compensate for the fluctuations. I will come to Sickbay and conduct permanent repairs when I have the time."

The comm channel closed and Doctor looked down at himself, or at least the combination of projected light and forcefields that was the physical manifestation of his program. He had thankfully stopped flickering. He let out a small breath that managed to sound relieved and somewhat put out at the same time. "No one would ever have to _beg_ for treatment from _me_." He grumbled to himself. "I guess that's what I get for being a low priority system. I end up a low-priority patient."

"Are you going to be alright now?" Naomi picked the dermal regenerator from the floor and handed it to the Doctor.

It was extremely difficult to retain his testy mood with a little girl looking up at him with wide-eyed concern. He smiled. "Yes. Thank you." With that he turned back to Neelix. "I apologize for the delay." It was clear he wasn't apologizing for himself but for B'Elanna and Seven's slow response.

Neelix waited until the Doctor had finished the treatment and his spotted hands were back to normal before answering. "No problem." He hopped off the biobed allowing the next patient to climb on.

The Doctor gave Neelix one last nod. "You can go now." He quickly turned to his new patient and began scanning the arm she was carefully cradling.

Neelix didn't move, Naomi standing firmly at his side. "But I'm needed here."

The Doctor glanced sharply down at the somewhat short-statured alien. "_You_ don't even know how to operate a hypospray."

"But I am the moral officer. And who else needs more cheering up than the injured." He gestured widely, encompassing the full Sickbay.

"We won't get in your way." Naomi added.

The ensign on the biobed smiled a bit at their enthusiasm. The Doctor didn't notice. Still working his tricorder he said. "Thank you, Naomi." He spoke in as patient a voice as he could manage, and slipped Neelix an annoyed look. "But they'll feel better when they're cured." He swapped his tricorder for another tool and began carefully running it up and down the woman's arm. "I'm sure you two could find something more…" He paused for a moment, searching for a word that wouldn't hurt the child's feelings but get his point across to Neelix. "…_important_ to do elsewhere. As you can see I'm extremely busy." The last comment was directed strictly to the Talaxian.

Neelix took the hint. "Perhaps the Doctor is right." He gently herded Naomi toward the door, nodding sympathetically at the other patients as he passed. "We can go clean up the _mess_ in the _mess_ hall."

Naomi giggled and the Doctor rolled his eyes at the silly pun.

Neelix stopped at the door. "Doctor, if you're so busy why don't you call Tom down to help you?"

"Because Mr. Paris is too busy flying the ship to worry about his medical duties." After the quick reply the Doctor turned his back to them and concentrated on his patient, grumbling something about the doctor always the last one to be treated.

"Neelix?" Naomi looked up at her godfather as they made their way through the sparse, gray corridors.

"Yes?"

"Who programmed the Doctor to be so cranky?"


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

It had been about an hour since they had passed through that blasted wormhole and B'Elanna had been growing more and more testy by the minute. The engineers she sent throughout the ship for repairs were relieved to get out of Engineering and away from their volatile CO, while those destined to stay worked feverishly at their posts as their Chief Engineer jumped from station to station, shouldering past whoever happened to be there as she tried to pull up as much energy from the damaged vessel as possible.

B'Elanna scowled at the console before her, creasing her forehead and slightly puckering the bony ridges that ran from the bridge of her nose to her hairline. She knew that time was of the essence for more than one reason. They needed impulse back online; otherwise if the wormhole were to collapse unexpectedly they might not have the speed to make it through. Thrusters wouldn't be enough. Realistically, she knew, propulsion was not the only thing that needed to be repaired before another trip through that thing. Really, they needed the entire ship in peak condition before again facing such a destructive force. Considering what the violent anomaly had already done to them going back through in their crippled state would be suicide, they would be in pieces before the even reached the other side. If that wasn't enough to worry about there were the transporters, she had Vorrik and Carey working on repairing those. They needed to get the probe off the planet as soon as possible. The longer it was here the more likely someone was to find it and an incident like that would contaminate the entire timeline.

There was a small chirp and she slapped her commbadge as if it were a particularly disagreeable insect. She just knew it was someone about to tell her that another major system had failed. To her relief Vorrik's calm, Vulcan voice had good news.

"Lieutenant Carey and I have competed repairs to the transporter."

"Good." She said, relived that at least one thing was crossed off her list. "You can start repairs on the damaged conduits on deck seven."

"Aye."

She opened another comm channel. "Captain, the transporters are fixed."

On the bridge Janeway let out a sigh of relief. "Good work Lieutenant. Harry, lock on to the probe and beam it aboard."

Before Harry had a chance to open his mouth B'Elanna spoke up. "The transporters are working fine but the scanners are still malfunctioning. We won't be able to get a strong enough lock."

The Captain frowned at the air. Today was definitely not her day.

"We have two options, Captain." B'Elanna continued. "We can wait a couple hours for the scanners to be repaired and beam the probe directly to the ship."

Janeway shook her head. "I don't want to wait that long."

"Or we could beam down an away team now and use the pattern enhancers to boost the signal."

"Is there anyone down there? I wouldn't want anyone from this century seeing us appear from mid air."

Harry frowned at his console and shook his head just a bit. "I'm not reading any life signs." He gave an apologetic shrug. "But the way the scanners are acting that doesn't mean there aren't any there."

Janeway didn't like that answer at all. The last thing they wanted to do was beam down in the middle of a village or something. She turned to her pilot. "Tom, you know a lot about this century. Do you think there would be anyone down there in this area?"

Tom looked appraisingly up at the viewscreen where the magnified image of the little island filled the screen. "I don't think so, captain. There were some islands inhabited in the South Pacific in that decade. But this one's pretty far out in the middle of nowhere."

Janeway nodded. "Good enough." It wasn't the blazing assurance she had wanted but it was all she was going to get. "Assemble an away team."

"All my engineers are busy right now." B'Elanna said. "I'll go myself."

The Captain shook her head. It wasn't that she was expecting trouble but the way things had been going she didn't want to take any chances. "No. I want someone to accompany you."

The engineer sounded indignant. "It'll only take a minute. I don't need a babysitter to set up a couple of pattern enhancers."

"Lieutenant, I'm not questioning your abilities." Janeway said sternly. "It's a precaution. Tom,"

The pilot looked up eagerly.

"I want you to accompany her."

"Yes, ma'am!"

Before Tom had completely left his seat Harry spoke up. "Captain, we're still getting some telemetry from the probe. It's pretty badly damaged and looks like the propulsion system is leaking."

Janeway let out a frustrated huff and ran a hand over her mouth. Just what they needed: another complication.

"That plasma is highly radioactive and…"

"I am aware of its properties, Mr. Kim." She snapped, a bit more harshly than she had intended. Her next words were addressed to both Tom and B'Elanna. "Stop at sickbay and see if the Doctor can give you some kind of inoculation."

000

Gilligan had been wandering around the jungle for almost an hour and was beginning to think the Professor was right. Maybe the meteorite was just too small for him to find. It had _looked_ pretty big. He gave a defeated sigh and hung his head, ready to go back to camp and hear a chorus of I-told-you-so's. He took one step and stopped. At his feet tendrils of a nearly imperceptible mist hugged the ground. It was so faint that he thought it might be nothing more than his imagination. That was when a sound, a far-off hiss just as vague as the mist reached his ears.

That was all it took to rekindle his determination. He immediately started in the direction of the sound. As he walked the mist became much more than an illusion. It thickened into a liquid-like fog that concealed the ground and swirled around his knees. Each step sent white ribbons dancing around his waist. He reached down and ran a hand through the milky substance, trailing a whirling wake that reminded him of the water that stirred behind the Minnow when it was out at sea. He felt like the island had somehow risen into the sky and he was walking on clouds.

It was beautiful, something out of a dream. But as he walked a twinge of apprehension pulled at him. Something was wrong. He couldn't place it at first but after a moment he realized the forest had become strangely quiet, the odd silence broken only by the growing hiss. A chill crawled up his spine. Where were all the animals?

But he didn't turn back. Curiosity was a strong force and despite his misgivings it urged him forward. As he rounded a stand of thick foliage he came upon a small clearing. In the center a large metallic cylinder jutted like a fat harpoon from the now thigh-deep mist. A jagged crack in the metal sprayed noisy billows of the strange steam into the jungle like a broken fire extinguisher.

"A spaceship!" He said in a reverent whisper, curiosity and awe quickly overpowering any apprehension. As he stepped closer he wondered just what was inside besides the odd smoke. "Hello?" He rapped the warm metal side a couple times. "Looks like you had a bad crash. You okay in there?" He searched the surface for some kind of hatch but he couldn't find one. The alien vessel seemed impenetrable.

He was just about to head back to camp and get the Professor when a strange light appeared before him, like a million twinkling blue fireflies. As the light faded two figures gradually solidified...out of thin air!

000

"I still think it would have been better to wait until we get the scanners working." Tom said as he and B'Elanna stepped into the transporter room. Tom carried a quartet of pattern enhancers and B'Elanna packed an engineering kit over her shoulder.

"As long as we keep our com-badges on the transporter ought to pick us up. We don't need the scanners."

"You do realize the words 'ought to' don't inspire confidence?" He said, only half teasing.

"Don't be a baby." She shooed the ensign away from the controls and entered several commands before stepping onto the transporter pad. Tom joined her and moments later the room twinkled and faded away and a lush green jungle took its place. The first thing they saw was not the errant probe or the plasma gas that coated the ground like white cotton candy. A young man in a red shirt and white hat stood not ten feet in front of them. His blue eyes were wide in shock and his mouth hung open as if he had forgotten it was there. He stood there like that for perhaps half a second then screamed and backpedaled frantically. He seemed to trip over his own feet and with a white puff he vanished under the layer of plasma. A split second later he exploded into view, already at a dead run. "Skipperrrrrrr!" Before either Tom or B'Elanna could utter a word he disappeared into the jungle leaving a swirling trail in his wake.

B'Elanna huffed and shoved both fists on her hips, shaking her head at the place where the young man had been a second earlier. "I thought you said this place was uninhabited!" When Tom didn't respond she turned to him to find his eyes wide and his mouth gaping open, looking exactly like the boy had a moment ago. She backhanded him in the shoulder. "I'm talking to you!"

"This...This is impossible." He sounded as if he were speaking to himself.

B'Elanna raised an eyebrow as she flipped the tripod out of one of the transporter beacons. "What? That you were wrong?"

Tom shook his head, still staring wide-eyed at the jungle where the young man had disappeared. There was both confusion and a hint of awe in his voice. "No. I…I don't understand. He shouldn't be here."

"Why, because you said so?"

"Because he doesn't exist!"


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5**

"Skipperrrrrrr!" Gilligan burst into the clearing and bolted for the Howell's hut where the Skipper was still working.

The captain turned at his first mate's cry. "Gilligan, where have you..." He didn't get a chance to finish his sentence as Gilligan tried to stop but his momentum sent him plowing into the big man. "Doop! _Gilligan!_" He shoved Gilligan back, took off his hat and whacked it over the young man's head.

Gilligan scarcely noticed. "Skipper, you'll never believe it! You'll never believe it!"

"What's all the ruckus about?" Mr. Howell stalked up to the two sailors, his wife trotting at his side.

"What's the matter?" Ginger asked as she and Mary Ann came hurrying over from the kitchen area.

"We heard Gilligan yelling. Is everyone okay?"

"What's going on?" The Professor stepped out of his hut, a large book in one hand.

"It was so scary!" Gilligan exclaimed, fairly shivering out of his shoes.

"Well, what happened?" The Skipper urged.

"I was out looking for that meteor and..."

The Professor shook his head. "Gilligan I told you you wouldn't be able to find that."

"But I _did_ find it only that's not what it was and it was sticking in the ground like this:" He made some incomprehensible gesture. "And it was going 'fssssshhhht' with all this stuff going everywhere!" His hands went wild as he tried to emulate the spraying plasma. "And then there was nothing at all and then suddenly there they were! Skipper, they just appeared out of thin air!"

The Skipper grabbed him by both shoulders and gave him a firm shake. "Gilligan calm down!"

The Professor stepped a little closer. "Compose yourself before you hyperventilate. Take deep breaths." He instructed calmly.

Gilligan tried to obey and gradually his breathing slowed. But it was clear he was still frightened.

"Now," The Skipper let Gilligan go, satisfied that he wasn't going to have a meltdown. "What did you see?"

"Ghosts!"

"Ghosts?" The rest said in unison.

The Professor shook his head. "Gilligan, there is no such thing."

"There is too! I saw them! I just found the spaceship and they appeared out of nowhere!"

"Ghosts?" Mary Ann said again, sounding extremely skeptical.

"Spaceship?" Mr. Howell said, equally skeptical.

Ginger smiled nostalgically. "Reminds me of a movie I was once in: 'Poltergeists From Pluto'."

"Spaceships!" The Skipper said with a roll of his eyes. "Gilligan, of all the dumb things you've come up with this takes the cake. I told you to quit reading those comic books. They've gotten to your head."

"You guys don't believe me. But it's real! And the ghosts are too. I saw them with my own eyes."

The Professor's eyebrows creased in concern "Gilligan, are you feeling alright?" He touched the back of his hand to the first mate's forehead.

"No! I'm feeling all wrong. This island's haunted!"

The Skipper let out an annoyed breath. "Gilligan, this island is not haunted. Believe me we would have known about it by now. Besides, why would a ghost need a spaceship anyway?"

The Professor shook his head at the absurd remark but didn't comment on it. "Gilligan perhaps you better lay down. Hallucinations can be a sign of..."

"I'm not sick!" Gilligan insisted, now just as frustrated as he was frightened. They never listened! "Please, you've got to believe me!" He looked pleadingly into the dubious faces of his friends.

"My boy I believe you've been dipping into my private stock." Mr. Howell shook a scolding finger at Gilligan.

Mrs. Howell nodded, bouncing the feathers on her hat. "Yes. You wouldn't _believe_ some of the things Thurston sees when he has one too many."

Ginger put both hands on her hips. "Oh, Gilligan, you are old enough to know that stuff's only in the movies."

He turned desperately to Mary Ann.

She looked at him sympathetically and gave an apologetic shrug. "You've got to admit, Gilligan, it sounds pretty far fetched."

"But it's _true_!" He cried throwing both hands out imploringly. Why did this always happen when he had something important to say?

Gilligan was quite adamant and the Professor was having second thoughts about completely dismissing the young man's story. Gilligan didn't just lie. Perhaps there was some other explanation. "Could you take us to this 'spaceship'?"

Gilligan shook his head so violently his hat twisted sideways. "No way I'm goin' back there!"

"Gilligan it's going to be extremely hard to corroborate such an improbable story without evidence."

Gilligan blinked. "Huh?"

"Oh, come on, Professor." The Skipper said. "You don't believe all that do you?"

The Professor shrugged. "I certainly don't believe it was an extraterrestrial spacecraft or ghosts but he could have seen something unusual."

Gilligan frowned. He hated it when the talked about him like he wasn't there. He knew what he saw and he knew it was dangerous.

"Come on, Gilligan." Mary Ann put a hand on his arm. Despite how fantastic his story he was so adamant that she couldn't help but believe him. Several of his discoveries in the past had seemed like nothing more than flights of fantasy but had turned out to be very real. "If you saw something it might be important. You've got to show us where it is."

"Huh uh." He shook his head. "It's too dangerous for women."

She shrugged a little. "Than take the Skipper and the Professor."

"Oh, no. It's to dangerous for men."

The Skipper rolled his eyes. "If this thing is so dangerous than why are you still here?"

"Because I ran _really_ fast!"

"What if we _all_ went with you?" Mary Ann suggested.

Gilligan looked dubious.

"Yes." The Professor added. "There's safety in numbers."

Mr. Howell huffed indignantly. "I'm not going tromping about in the jungle for hours in search of this boy's fantasy."

The first mate frowned at the millionaire's words. "It's not a fantasy. I really saw it. And I'll prove it." With that he turned and marched purposefully into the jungle.

Mr. Howell crossed his arms defiantly as the other castaways followed Gilligan and quickly disappeared into the foliage. Lovey even went with them. The millionaire was left completely alone. "Most absurd." He grumbled to himself. "Ghosts and spaceships." A tropical bird screeched somewhere in the distance and the bushes rustled eerily at the edge of the clearing. He gave a small nervous laugh. "Nothing but teenage nonsense." A mournful moan echoed through the forest as the wind blew through the palm trees. "On the other hand. A brisk walk now and then is good for the lungs." A moment later he was dashing up the trail.

000

"I know it's around here somewhere." Gilligan insisted as they trudged through the jungle. "But everything looks so different now. I mean there was this weird fog all over the ground so I really couldn't see a path. But I know we're close."

Mary Ann stared into the greenery around her and shivered just a little. Something didn't feel right. Maybe Gilligan was right about this place being haunted. "It's too quiet." She said, mostly to herself but just loud enough so the others could hear.

Gilligan turned at the comment. "That's what I thought! Only before there was this loud hissing sound and…"

"Gilligan," The Skipper interrupted. "We've been out here for forty five minutes. Admit it, you dreamed up the whole thing."

The first mate frowned deeply. "No."

"Well, we better stop soon." Mr. Howell grumbled. "My little tootsies are wearing out."

"Oh, my poor dear." His wife gave him a sympathetic pat on the cheek.

"You see the Howell feet are very delicate."

"I agree with Mr. Howell." Ginger was leaning against the nearest palm tree. She had slipped out of one of her high heels and was rubbing her foot. "My feet are killing me."

"It's a wonder your feet don't hurt all the time in those shoes." Mary Ann said, with only a little sympathy.

"To the point." Mr. Howell continued. "My boy, you've dragged us all over this ridiculous island on this wild goose chase."

"Pheasant." Mrs. Howell corrected.

"Oh, yes. Of course, you're right, Lovey dear." He patted her hand and turned with a laugh to the rest of the group. "A Howell, would never bother with a common goose."

"Just a little while longer." Gilligan insisted, pressing forward. "Please? I know we're…hey, what's that?" He hurried ahead a little ways and dropped to his knees.

The Professor was the first to catch up to him. "What did you find?"

"It's dead." Gilligan's voice was barely a whisper. In his cupped hands lay a splash of yellow and green feathers.

"Oooh." Mary Ann moaned as she peered over Gilligan's shoulder. "Poor little bird."

"I wonder what happened to him." Ginger said.

"Hasn't been dead very long." The Professor observed, as he looked more closely.

"I think we ought to give the little fellow a proper burial." Mrs. Howell said, sniffling a little into her handkerchief.

Gilligan nodded slowly, looking as if he had just lost his best friend.

After the shortest of ceremonies and a solemn word from Mr. Howell the seven castaways continued on their way. They ran across two more dead birds and by the third Gilligan was wiping tears from his eyes. But he knew that more than just being very sad these deaths _meant_ something. It meant he was right.

"I told you there's something wrong with this place." Gilligan shuddered a little as he stood, looking worriedly into the jungle around him as if he expected a ghoul to jump out at any moment.

"Gilligan," The Professor said calmly. "A few dead birds only means that there's some kind of avian epidemic passing through the island. It's unfortunate, yes, but it certainly does not mean that the island is haunted."

"Besides, we still haven't found that spaceship of yours." The Skipper was getting close to the end of his rope with this wild goose chase.

"It's here, Skipper." Gilligan insisted. "It's right around here. I know it." His eyes grew wide as a thought hit him. "Maybe the spaceship is a ghost too!"

This comment was met with six weary groans.

"Maybe it can turn invisible just like the people and we've been walking by it the whole time!"

"That's the stupidest thing I've ever heard you say! Gilligan, the only space cadet around here is you. Admit it, you imagined the whole thing."

Gilligan frowned. "No." He turned defiantly and started down the trail but the Skipper grabbed his arm and whirled him around again.

"We're going home."

"But, Skipper!"

"No buts. We are going back to camp. Now march!"

With a defeated sigh the first mate turned and trudged back through the jungle.

Mary Ann came up beside him and rested a hand on his shoulder. "I'm sorry, Gilligan." She said soothingly. He was usually so bright and cheerful she hated to see him down. "Sometimes I think I see things and—"

He shrugged away from her. "You don't believe me either." He said quietly. "But I really saw it."

The Skipper glanced back at Gilligan to make sure he was still following them and hadn't run off again. "I can't believe he's sticking to this story. It's the silliest thing I've heard out of him yet."

The Professor nodded. "It is quite a fanciful tale."

"I think he just didn't want to be wrong about that falling star."

The Professor's brow's came together thoughtfully.

The Skipper noticed caught the expression "You don't agree?"

"It's not like Gilligan to deliberately deceive us."

He was right, the Skipper knew. Gilligan was one of the worst liars he had ever met. A good storyteller but a very bad liar. A sudden thought hit him. "You…you don't think he's sick do you?" He glanced back at Gilligan again, a twinge of worry pushing through his irritation.

The Professor shrugged. "There doesn't seem to be anything wrong with him. He probably got tired, sat down somewhere and took a nap. More than likely he quite literally dreamed the whole thing."

The big man nodded in agreement.

What none of the castaways could have known was that barely fifty yards away, on the other side of a tall stand of bamboo, lay a small clearing. In the center was a huge gaping crater with remnants of a strange white mist pooling at the bottom.


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6**

"There was no way we could have avoided being seen. He was right there watching us as we beamed down." B'Elanna explained from her seat at the Observation Room table. The entire senior staff was present as well as Neelix, the Doctor and Seven.

The Doctor spoke first. "Captain, that probe was down there for almost an hour leaking plasma gas. That whole area is toxic by now and that young man has been exposed. We don't know how long he was near it before we came. Anyone who walks through there runs the risk of severe contamination. We need to beam him up immediately."

B'Elanna shook her head. "We can't. Not until we can fix this problem with the scannners."

"I don't understand." The Doctor continued, looking annoyed. "You and Mr. Paris beamed down and back just fine."

The engineer huffed in frustration at the physician's ignorance. "They had a lock on us, the computer already knew where we were. To find this guy we need to scan for lifesigns. Which we can't do without the _scanners_."

"Sorry I mentioned it." He said, rolling his eyes heavenward at the Engineer's testy tone.

The Captain listened to the exchange with growing concern. Voyager had already caused enough trouble and she certainly didn't want a death on their hands. "How long will it take to repair the scanners?"

"It's pretty involved. There's some physical damage and the subroutines that actually control the procedure are a jumbled mess. And on top of that it seems that the interference from the wormhole is affecting them too. Which means I'll have to do some reconfiguring as well. It's going to take two maybe three hours."

The Doctor's jaw dropped. The estimate was clearly unacceptable. "He could be dead by then. At the very least suffering acute symptoms."

Tom spoke up from his seat, looking worried, confused and excited all at the same time. "He'll tell the others and bring them all up there. In fact they're probably there now."

"What others?" Chakotay asked.

"The other castaways."

Janeway frowned. "Tom, you obviously know something about this that we don't. Enlighten us, will you?"

He shook his head a bit. "I know this is going to sound completely crazy and I don't know if I believe it myself. But I know what I saw. Captain, there are seven people down there. They've been shipwrecked."

B'Elanna scowled at him. "Oh, come on, Tom. How could you possibly know that? And we didn't see seven people, only the one guy."

"I've seen him before.

"Where?"

"On a nineteen sixties TV show!"

Chakotay looked confused. "What's a TV show?"

Neelix spoke up before Tom had a chance to. "It's a form of non interactive entertainment. Kes and I had a chance to watch some when we were dealing with that time ship. It can be quite diverting."

"It sound like a highly inefficient use of time." Seven remarked

Janeway still looked puzzled. "So they are actors of some sort?"

"No. That's the thing! That show was filmed mostly in LA. And I looked it up, according to historical charts that island shouldn't even be there!" Tom thrust a finger towards the slice of swirling blue and white could be seen out the window.

B'Elanna wrinkled her nose, pulling her lip up into a disgusted sneer. "So you're saying that these fictitious characters have suddenly come to life?"

"That's exactly what I'm saying!"

"Come on, Tom. That's a little far fetched, don't you think?"

"I know it sounds crazy. But…Here, I'll show you." He marched over to the wall and punched something on the shiny black control panel. "Computer, bring up file ParisGI, Goodbye Island. Play."

The monitor on the wall alit with picture of a harbor as a bright sea chanty began to play. _"Just sit right back and you'll hear a tale…"_

"It's monochromatic." Harry observed. "Like Captain Proton."

"Just the first season." Tom said. "The next two seasons were in color."

"Sprightly little tune." The Doctor waved a finger with the music.

"The mate was a mighty sailin' man…"

"See?" Tom said to B'Elanna as he pointed at the screen.

Her eyes widened in recognition. "That's definitely him. Same hat and everything."

"_Five passengers set sail that day for a three hour tour, three hour tour."_

Neelix jumped as a thunderclap echoed through the room and a bolt of lightning flashed across the screen. "Uh, oh. Looks like they're in trouble."

"_The weather started getting rough, the tiny ship was tossed. If not for the courage of the fearless crew-"_

"Computer, pause playback." At Tom's word the screen stopped, leaving the little boat frozen atop a massive, churning wave.

"What did you stop it for?" Neelix asked, staring at the screen in concern. "What happens next?"

Tom gave the alien a momentary glance but directed his words to the Captain. "Anyway, like I said. If Gilligan's down there that means the rest are too."

Janeway nodded thoughtfully. "Just what we need." She said wryly.

"Hold on." B'Elanna said, raising both hands and fixing Tom with a dubious look. "I admit the resemblance is uncanny. But that doesn't mean that this little fantasy is real."

"I know what I saw." Tom said firmly. The more he thought about it the more sure he became. But how could he prove it? A thought suddenly came to him. "I'm sure of this Captain." He said, then addressed the air. "Computer, is there _any _historical records of the island where the probe crashed? Maps, photos, anything?"

"Negative."

Tom glanced around the room, making sure everyone had heard the computer's answer. "Computer, play file: ParisGI Man With A Net. Triple speed through time index…um…486.7."

The computer complied and images green jungle and yellow sand flashed across the screen with characters moving comically at unnatural speed. The pilot watched the screen intently until it showed what he wanted. "Freeze frame!"

The picture now showed a still image of a portly man in a khaki pith helmet and glasses, fully absorbed in studying a large map. "Computer, enlarge grid 4:2 and superimpose over an image of the island below us."

The computer complied, taking the map on the screen and placing it directly over an image of the small landmass where the probe had crashed. There was a unified intake of breath. The shapes were exactly the same—roughly circular with a small inlet and lagoon on one side.

"I'm convinced." Janeway raised a hand in surrender and there were nods of bewildered agreement around the table.

"But how is this possible?" Harry asked, looking thoroughly confused. "Even in time travel things that never existed don't just pop up like that."

"It's not as unprecedented as it may sound." Chakotay reasoned, gesturing with his laced fingers. "There have been several encounters with alternate realities before. Some of them well documented."

"Like Kirk's mirror universe, you mean!" The Ensign said eagerly.

Tom was becoming more excited by the minute. "We already know the wormhole has a temporal deviation, maybe it shifts dimensions too!"

Seven's mechanical implant raised slightly. "An intriguing hypothesis. There was a slight anomaly in stellar readings. I thought it was sensor error. But it could be indicative of a dimensional shift."

"So." Janeway managed to look both annoyed and fascinated at the same time. Annoyed at the complication but fascinated by this new scientific discovery. "It appears we have an even more interesting dilemma than we thought." She turned to her pilot. "Tom, how long are these… 'shows'?"

"A little less than half an hour. Why?"

"I think we ought to finish the one we started. It might give us some insight into who we're dealing with. Especially if we're going to have to bring them to Voyager to treat them."

"Captain. I don't have time to sit here and watch this." B'Elanna protested, throwing a hand toward the screen. "I have work to do."

"You have a capable staff." Janeway said. "I think they can do without you for a short time."

"If Tom's right there could be useful information here." Chakotay added.

The engineer blew out a loud breath and crossed her arms, clearly announcing that she thought it was a waste of time.

Tom nodded eagerly, returned to his seat and, again addressed the computer, asking it to continue where it had left off. Instantly the image of the tiny ship braving the storm returned, as did the musical introduction.

Less than a half hour later the closing credits finished scrolling down the screen and the monitor went black.

"Interesting." The Doctor looked slightly amused, but clearly unimpressed. "But it's hardly Shakespeare."

Tom grinned knowingly. "They can do Shakespeare."

"I thought it had a gripping plot." Neelix said. "And the characters were quite entertaining. I feel sorry for them, though. Being stranded like that."

B'Elanna stared at the now-empty screen, arms crossed. "That is the stupidest thing I have ever seen. It's mindless."

"Oh, come on B'Elanna. It's one of the greatest sitcoms of all time! Headhunters, volcanoes, typhoons. Great stuff!"

Harry shrugged. "I thought it was kinda funny."

Seven's forehead puckered in a tiny frown. "Seven individuals, lost with little hope of rescue encounter life-threatening situations: I fail to see the humor in this scenario. It seems rather barbaric to find amusement in others misfortune."

"Not to mention the plot and events are highly illogical." Tuvok added from the back. "A coat of glue, no matter how ineffective would not cause a ship to…"

Janeway sat forward in her chair, pushing her thoughts on the show aside. "I didn't have us watch this to discuss quality entertainment. We're losing sight of the issues."

The conversation quieted as attention turned to the captain.

"One of which is where the Prime Directive fits in here."

Chakotay's dark eyebrows creased in thought. "If this is an entirely different dimension than our own is the Prime Directive even applicable?"

"I don't see why it should be." Harry said. "Anything that we do wouldn't affect our timeline."

"Well, they want to get home." Neelix piped up. He didn't really understand all this time-travel-dimensions business but he knew what should be done. "Maybe once we treat them we could just beam them back to a more populated area. Or at least some place where someone would find them."

"No." B'Elanna sat up a little straighter as everyone turned their attention on her. "This may be an alternate dimension but it's still connected to ours."

"Through this program." Tuvok clarified, motioning to the now blank screen.

"Exactly."

"Anything we do to these…" Janeway groped a moment for the right word. "…characters would also affect the actors to some degree—the actors in our dimension."

Tom was nodding his head. "We can't rescue them. If they get rescued the show would end early and—"

Seven chose that moment to finish his sentence for him. "And that would alter the actor's lives."

Tom had not been finished with his statement and jumped in as the reformed Borg took a breath and she gave him a look that could have blasted through deutronium. He ignored it. "Not only would it affect the actor's lives but the filming crew, the directors, the stunt men, not to mention millions of viewers. Captain, some very important inventors in our history became scientists in the first place from watching this show."

The captain nodded. "You've made you're point. Okay, so sending them back to civilization is out. But clearly we can't leave them in an area so contaminated, and we know that one of these people have already been exposed."

"Once the scanners are fixed we can beam up whoever is in need of medical attention."

Janeway sighed. "I would really like to avoid transporting anyone up here."

"We could send someone down to treat them." Harry perked up, but quickly slumped as the complications hit him. "But again we'd need the scanners to find them."

The Doctor shook his head. "In the kind of condition they're going to be in by the time those scanners are repaired…" He shot a glance at B'Elanna. "They will need the extended facilities of sickbay anyway."

The captain nodded. "Alright, so as soon as the repairs are completed we'll beam them up."

"What are we going to do after that?" Harry asked. "I mean we can't just treat them and send them back. It's still radioactive down there."

Janeway let out a heavy sigh. This was getting more complicated by the minute. "How long will it take to clear the island of radiation?"

"We could use that stock of mytophoric bacteria we picked up on Celic 2." The Doctor suggested. "It should completely absorb any radiation in about two days."

"That's not good enough."

"I'm sorry, Captain." He said with a shrug. "But bacteria works on it's own schedule."

"Alright." Janeway conceded. "But I want other options in case that wormhole starts to close. Find another island so if we have to we can get rid of them in a hurry."

Harry nodded. "Aye."

"Doctor, get that bacteria ready as soon as you can and have it beamed down to the crash site."

"Yes, Captain."

"Dismissed." Janeway stood and watched her crew file out. Chakotay was the last to leave and he turned to her, pausing in the doorway.

"You coming?"

She nodded vaguely. "I'll be out in a minute."

He gave her a curious look but said no more as he headed to the bridge.

Janeway sighed as the door closed behind him, relieved to be alone. She stared at the darkened screen on the wall for a long moment. "Computer, replay beginning and ending credits from 'Gilligan's Island'."

There was only the briefest pause before the screen once again alit with the Honolulu harbor and the cheery song began to play. The words hit home.

_Sit right back and you'll hear a tale, a tale of a fateful trip…The weather started getting rough, the tiny ship was tossed. _The words echoed in Janeway's ears and as she watched the little boat fighting the storm her mind went back to that distortion wave that had thrown Voyager so far from home, tossing the giant starship just like the little boat. _If not for the courage of the fearless crew…_ Voyager's crew had fought admirably not just during the distortion wave but through so many obstacles they faced over the years. _The ship set ground on the shore of this uncharted…_ 'Uncharted' hadn't she frequently used the same words to describe the vast Delta Quadrant in where they had been marooned? _Now this is the tale of our castaways. They're here for a long long time._ Castaways, that was exactly what they were, and, oh, how long these six years have been! _It's an uphill climb. The first mate and the Skipper too will do their very best to make the others comfortable…_ She and Chakotay had indeed fought to keep their crew safe from the dangers that seemed to face them at every turn. _…not a single luxury. Like Robinson Crusoe it's primitive as can be._ Primitive conditions. Voyager had so far managed to navigate the wilds of the Delta Quadrant but she always seemed to be foraging with no real comforts. They managed to scrape up supplies and what couldn't be found had to be patched together. It was like listening to their own story and it sent a cold shiver up her spine.

The last few notes concluded the song and the screen went black. Janeway blinked, the sudden silence having brought her back to the moment. She stood, took a deep breath and straightened her uniform before walking out the door feeling quite uneasy.


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7**

The Skipper trudged through the jungle, following the small sandy path through the dense foliage. Four thick bamboo poles balanced on one shoulder. Gilligan followed with an armful of thinner rods. They walked in silence. The Skipper was still irritated. While they had been harvesting the bamboo Gilligan hadn't closed his mouth once, still yammering on and on about ghosts and spaceships. The boy had refused to see reason. He knew that Gilligan wouldn't make something like that up on purpose but the young man had a vivid imagination that simply took control sometimes. After about fifteen minutes straight of Gilligan's babbling the Skipper had lost his cool and gave his first mate a smart whack over the head with his cap, sometimes the only way to startle him into shutting up. He had ordered him, quite adamantly to keep his trap shut until they got back to camp. It had taken a couple more threats but Gilligan had finally quieted and he hadn't spoke since.

"Skipper?"

The Skipper rolled his eyes and turned around to find that Gilligan had stopped several yards back and was leaning against the a palm tree. "What now?"

"Can we take a break?"

"Gilligan, we haven't even been working for an hour." Gilligan was a good kid but sometimes that's just how he acted, like a kid. Not long after he had met the young man the Skipper had made it his goal to toughen the boy up. But sometimes he didn't feel as if his efforts were working.

"But I feel awful tired all of a sudden and I think this bamboo is made of lead."

"That's because you're not working hard enough. You can take a break when we're finished. Now come on!" The Skipper beckoned with his free hand and started down the trail again, knowing that Gilligan would follow.

He hadn't taken five steps before there was a clatter behind him. Stopping with an annoyed huff he wondered just what Gilligan had tripped over, bumped into or fallen through this time. He turned around again to see Gilligan sprawled on the ground in the midst of a pile of bamboo poles. "Oh, for heaven's sake!"

"I'm sorry, Skipper." Gilligan began to push himself up but before he even got to his knees his arms trembled and gave way beneath him.

The Skipper's irritation quickly turned to concern. He dropped the poles and moved to Gilligan's side. "Little Buddy, are you alright?"

"So tired." Gilligan mumbled. He sounded as exhausted as he looked. Beads of sweat glistened on his forehead and he looked as if he could barely keep his eyes open.

"Gosh, Gilligan maybe you should take a break." He hadn't realized he had been pushing the boy so hard. He must have lost track of time and they had been working longer than he thought. "Come on, we'll go back to camp and finish this later."

"I'm alright." Gilligan waved him off as his eyes sank closed. "You go on. I'll just take a nap right here."

"Get up. You're not going to sleep right in the middle of the trail." But Gilligan's only response was a loud snore. He put a hand on the young man's shoulder and shook him a bit. It didn't do any good. The boy was out cold. The Skipper didn't bother to try again. When Gilligan was like this a twenty-one gun salute couldn't wake him.

With a deep sigh that was equal parts resignation and annoyance he slipped one arm under Gilligan's shoulders and the other under his knees he lifted the slight young man from the sand. He weighed next to nothing and the Skipper had no difficulty carrying him. "Gilligan, the things I do for you…" He shook his head and headed toward camp.

They had been quite far from the compound and it was a long walk. The Skipper had expected Gilligan to wake up on the way but they had already traveled quite a ways and he was still out cold. The weather was pleasantly warm but the limp form that the burly sailor carried in his arms was beginning to feel unusually cool and sweat still poured down the young man's face as if he were in a sauna. He was beginning to fear there was more wrong with his little buddy than a simple case of overwork. He decided to have the Professor take a look at him when they reached camp.

Strangely the boy was also seemed to be getting heavier. Gilligan weighed scarcely a hundred and twenty five pounds and the Skipper generally had no problem carrying things much heavier for greater distances. He paused a moment to shift Gilligan to his shoulders where his weight was easier to maintain.

Perhaps ten minutes later the Skipper shuffled to a stop and leaned heavily against the nearest palm tree, desperately trying to catch his breath. He couldn't believe he was feeling this way. He couldn't even remember the last time he had been so exhausted. "Little Buddy," He said between gasps as he removed his hat and wiped at the layer of sweat that glazed his forehead. "I think the Skipper is a little out of shape."

With a determined grunt he shifted his, still unconscious, crew again and continued on. _You can do this, Jonas._ He told himself through the veil of perspiration._ Tired is a state of mind._ But his mind was clouding. And he was certain that both his body and gravity were ganging up on him. Every part of him felt as if it were made of lead and Gilligan was like a bag of cement lying across his shoulders. A few steps later his knees buckled and he sank to the ground. As he kneeled there panting he had no choice but to admit it now. He wasn't just tired, he was sick. Whatever was wrong with Gilligan had a firm hold on him too.

With one big hand he reached up and pulled his first mate from off his back. Gilligan landed bonelessly at his side. The young man's face was the color of ash and he wasn't sweating anymore. He was also deathly still. Even through the increasingly thick cloud of exhaustion he could see that his Little Buddy needed help. And he needed it _now_. Even then, looking at his young friend's motionless form, he realized it could already be too late.

He needed to get him back to camp. As much as he hated to admit it carrying him any further was out of the question. Something was sapping his strength, draining him. He could no longer stand under his own weight let alone Gilligan's. There was really only one other option.

"PROFESSOR!" That one desperate shout drained the last bit of power he had left and everything faded to black.

The Skipper's voice echoed through the clearing that held their little island camp scarcely a hundred feet away. But no one answered.


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter 8**

Janeway stood in her office staring out the window at the planet she missed so much. It floated in view so tantalizingly close as if deliberately teasing her. It was like putting a piece of candy in front of a child and telling them 'look but don't touch'. It was a cruel joke.

"Captain." B'Elanna's urgent voice rang through the speaker system. "I think we've got it!"

"Thank you Lieutenant!" At last! She just hoped they weren't too late. "Report!" She ordered as she hurried onto the bridge. She reached the command chair but didn't sit.

"The sensors are clearing up." Harry answered, tapping his controls. "I'm reading six life signs. Five right near each other and another several yards away."

Before Janeway could give the order to beam them up Tom whirled around in his chair. "_Six_? There should be seven!"

Harry shrugged. "I'm only getting six."

To everyone's surprise Tom leaped from his station and hurried to the back of the bridge to Ops. "There are _seven_ people down there, Harry. Try again!"

The ensign's black eyebrows rose at his friend's insistent tone. He ran the scan a second time. "You know, Tom, the radiation could have…"

"No! That's not how it works. Nobody dies on Gilligan's Island!" Tom frowned at the readings. He gave the Ops panel a couple of taps then pointed at a series of numbers. "What's that?"

"It's just background interference."

Tom shook his head. "I don't think so. Narrow the beam."

Harry's dark eyes widened a bit as he executed Tom's suggestion. "You're right. It's a lifesign. Very faint."

"Well, what are you waiting for? Beam them up!"

Harry looked to Janeway and she nodded and with a smile repeated Tom's order. "What are you waiting for? Beam them up. Directly to Sickbay." She turned from Harry and addressed the air. "Doctor, you'll be receiving seven patients."

"Seven? Captain, I keep telling you we need more bio-beds!"

"Make due." She turned in her seat to look back at where Tom stood beside Harry at Ops. "Mr. Paris, I think the Doctor is going to need your assistance. You better get down there."

"Yes ma'am!" With that he disappeared into the turbo lift. It was the first time she had ever seen the pilot excited over his medical duties.

Tom fairly burst through the sickbay doors and froze at the sight that greeted him. He stared in amazement at the seven figures laying about the room, the Howell's, Ginger and Gilligan on the bio-beds and the rest carefully laid out on low, removable cots. They were all there down to the minutest detail, from Mary Ann's pink hair ribbons to the Skipper's pinky ring. He could even see Gilligan's pale blue bellbottoms and untied sneakers sticking out from underneath the medical arch on the main bio-bed. "I can't believe it! They're real."

The Doctor stood beside the main bio-bed, hypo-spray in hand. "Mr. Paris, this is sickbay not a museum. Will you kindly refrain from gawking at the patients and treat them? Unless you look forward to writing a eulogy for these heroes of yours."

Tom nodded, grabbed the nearest hypospray and hurried to administer the medication to the unconscious forms.

The Doctor quickly turned back to the red-shirted figure that lay under the frantically beeping arch. He pressed the hypospray against the boy's neck and the medication hissed into his bloodstream.

"What's happening over there, Doc?" Tom asked as he finished treating Mary Ann and hurried over to where the Doctor was punching instructions into the biobed.

"He's in cytotoxic shock. Two cc's of inaprovaline!" The Doctor held out a demanding hand and Tom who quickly loaded a hypospray and handed it over. A strange sinking feeling settled in the pilot's stomach. This wasn't right. This couldn't be the sitcom character he knew so well. Even when Gilligan was sleeping he was funny. But there was nothing humorous about the deathly pale figure before him on the biobed.

He forced his eyes from the patient to the arch readout and instantly wished he hadn't. "It's not working, Doc. We're losing him!" How was this possible? Nobody was ever hurt on Gilligan's Island. How could things have gone so wrong?

"Cortical Stimulator." The Doctor said as he moved over to a nearby console, urgently tapping instructions.

Tom nodded and attached a small round device to the side of Gilligan's neck.

"Initiate an isosynaptic pulse on my mark."

The pilot nodded, his finger poised over the biobed's control panel.

"Now!"

Gilligan's body stiffened then relaxed in one brief convulsion as a charge of carefully regulated electricity surged through his brain.

The Doctor's frown deepened. "Again."

The boy on the table took in a deep gasp. The arch's urgent whine was replaced by a rhythmic 'blip' and the Doctor sighed in relief. Tom sagged against the console with a grateful smile. "Doc, you just saved a piece of history."

Before the Doctor had a chance to reply there was a soft moan from the bed between them. They looked down to see Gilligan's eyes slowly flicker open.

It took a moment for Gilligan's vision to adjust to the bright lighting and at first all he could see were two blurry figures.

"Hey, there." Tom said with gently.

"How are you feeling?" The Doctor asked, somewhat surprised that the young man had regained consciousness so quickly.

"Like somebody stuffed my head with damp cotton candy." Gilligan frowned, his mind just as fuzzy as his vision. The last thing he remembered was helping the Skipper with the bamboo. "How did I get here? Who are you?" Gradually his vision cleared and the faces above him sharpened. His attention settled on Tom and he let out a small gasp of recognition. "You're the ghost!" He made a move to get up but was restrained by the medical arch. _Trapped! _"Hey! Get this thing offa me! Let me outta here!" Panic took a firm hold on him and he banged frantically at the device, trying to shove it off him.

"Calm down." Tom put up both hands in a gesture of peace. "We're not going to hurt you."

Gilligan didn't even hear the assurance. His breath began to come in panicked gasps and he continued to struggle fiercely against the restraint.

The Doctor swapped a glance with Tom then turned back to his frightened patient. "I'm going to give you something to calm you down." He said as he programmed a hypospray. "This won't hurt a bit."

Gilligan let out a strangled scream as the strange device was lowered towards him. His hands found the bottom of the arch and in one swift movement he launched himself out from under it and clean off the biobed. He landed on his feet and instantly whirled to face Tom, clearly afraid to turn his back on him. "What is this place?" His blue eyes grew wider every moment as he took in the biobed's blinking instrument panel, the black medical arch and the tray of assorted devices. "It's a lab!" Gilligan cried, remembering X-Ray Man's most recent adventure. "This is a spaceship! You're not a ghost! You're an _alien_!"

"Two out of three's not bad" The Doctor mumbled to himself.

Tom held both hands up in a non-threatening gesture of appeal. "Gilligan, calm down. We're just here to help."

"How do you know my name?" Realization struck and Gilligan's look of horror expanded. "You can read minds! Just like in The Attack of the Psychics from Venus!"

Tom glanced at the Doctor for support. He gave a small nod and spoke in a soft voice. "Listen, I'm a doctor. I promise we won't hurt you." He took one tentative step toward his panicking patient.

Gilligan took several quick steps back, trying to put some distance between him and his would-be attackers. He didn't know exactly what they wanted from him but he was very sure he didn't want to find out. He'd watched plenty of science fiction movies to know that whatever they had in store for him would be strange, painful and probably fatal. He kept giving ground until his heel caught on something and he pitched backwards over a large object. A 'thunk' rang in his ears as he hit the ground hard and banged his head on the floor. Momentarily dazed he propped himself up to see just what he had tripped over. Everything inside him froze. He couldn't breathe, his hands suddenly felt like ice and he was certain that the beating in his chest had completely stopped. "Skipper!" His voice came out a strangled squeak.

There on a low cot sprawled the big man who was both his captain and his best friend. His eyes were closed and he wasn't snoring. Gilligan jerked his legs from off the Skipper's chest and scrambled backwards until something blocked him. He reached back, unable to take his eyes off the Skipper, and his hand touched cloth and flesh. With a yelp he leaped to his feet and whirled in a circle. There they were…his friends…the girls lay stretched out on what looked like three laboratory tables and the Skipper, the Professor and Mr. Howell sprawled on small pallets like so many discarded dolls. "Skipper! Professor! Mary Ann!" His frantic pleas did nothing to wake them up. He turned to his two captors. "What have you done to them!"

Gilligan's accusing shriek echoed off the Sickbay walls like an explosion. Tom took a step back, momentarily stunned. He couldn't believe that so much rage and anguish could come from the goofy and amiable first mate.

"They're sick. We're trying to help."

"That's what they all say. Right before they eat your brain!" He shot back.

The Doctor grimaced. "How vulgar."

Tom moved carefully, hypospray in hand, toward where the Skipper lay sprawled on the floor.

"What are you doing?" Gilligan asked, nervously shifting from one foot to the other as if ready to run. Which was exactly what he wanted to do. He wanted to run as hard and fast as he could and find a place to hide. But he couldn't leave the others. Not here. Not like this.

"It's okay. I'm just going to wake him up." He bent down and moved the hypospray slowly towards the Skipper's neck.

"No. Stay away from him!"

With one quick movement Tom pressed the hypospray to the captain's thick neck. The next instant he was thrown backwards, the breath knocked out of him as he collided painfully with the deck.

"Leave him _alone!_" Screamed the red-shirted figure that was on top of him, pinning him to the floor. This couldn't be Gilligan! The thought raced through Tom's mind as he tried to push the sailor back.

Out of the corner of his eye he saw the Doctor move closer, hypospray in hand. "No!" He ordered. "Don't sedate him. Wake the others."

"Won't that just cause more hysteria?"

"Just do it." Tom said as he threw a leg up and shifted his weight, sending both pilot and sailor rolling across the Sickbay floor. They were about the same age but Tom had the advantage in weight, experience and training and it was a simple task to get the better of the slight first mate and in moments Gillian was flat on his back, both wrists pinned to the floor. Despite his continued struggles Tom easily kept him in place. "Will you stop it!"

There was a heavy groan behind them and then a slurred voice. "Oh, my head!"

Gilligan took in a huge gasp. "Skipper!" Tom released his grip and Gilligan shot out from under him. The next moment he had dropped to his knees and flung his arms around the groggy captain's neck. "Skipper, you're not dead! I'm so glad you're not dead!"

"Gilligan, what…" The Skipper's mind was fuzzy and his head was throbbing and the shouting in his ear did little to help. He grabbed Gilligan's arms and pushed him back. "What are you babbling about?" He demanded hotly. Then he remembered… "GilliganLittleBuddy! You're—" He stopped abruptly, his mouth freezing open in the middle of his sentence, Gilligan almost forgotten. He almost asked 'where are we' and 'who are you' but what came out was a booming: "We're rescued!" He leapt to his feet, grabbed the Doctor's hand and pumped it furiously.

Tom tapped his commbadge. "Captain, they're waking up."

"I'll be there in a moment."

Hearing the voice the Skipper glanced around the room curiously. "Who was that?"

"We're not rescued, Skipper!" Gilligan shouted, tugging on the Skipper's arm. "We're _abducted_!"

"Gilligan will you stop with the—" He turned to scold his first mate and again his words caught as he noticed his fellow castaways for the first time. After the Doctor's injection they were just beginning to come around and the Professor was first to open his eyes. The Skipper didn't know who to go to first. "What happened?" He asked, finally deciding on Mary Ann who had put a groggy hand to her head.

But neither the Doctor nor Tom had a chance to answer.

"Good heavens." Mr. Howell touched his temple as he stared around the room. "I think I fell off my wallet and landed on my head!"

"Oh, Thurston dear!" Mrs. Howell said, looking tired. "I believe I took one of your sleeping pills by mistake. I can't remember anything."

"Where are we?" Ginger sat up, her eyes wide as she patted her hair.

"It doesn't matter! We're rescued!" Mary Ann cried.

The Professor sprang to his feet, taking in the unusual surroundings and the two strangers. He was the first to give the Starfleet officers a lucid introduction. "I'm sorry but we're a bit dazed. I'm afraid I don't remember how we got here."

The Doctor nodded. "That's to be expected. You've been unconscious."

"The last thing I remember was Mary Ann fainting when we were doing dishes." Ginger's perfect forehead puckered in concentration.

"That's right!" Mr. Howell said as her husband helped her off the bed. "And we carried her to bed and then Ginger went down."

"Goodness!" Mrs. Howell squeaked. "I didn't realize dishpan hands were contagious."

The Professor frowned. "I don't remember any of that."

"That's because by the time I went to you for help you were keeled over that blasted chemistry set of yours. Fine time to be taking a nap."

Tom leaned toward the Doctor and whispered. "See, aren't they great?"

The Doctor raised a disapproving eyebrow at the young man's odd enthusiasm, but directed his words to the castaways. "I realize that this all must be very confusing for you but Captain Janeway will be here in a minute and explain everything."

" 'Captain'?" The Professor repeated, trying to piece together exactly what had happened. "We're on a ship then."

Tom nodded, feeling that bit of information was safe to give them.

"Yeah, a _space_ ship!" Gilligan said, still hiding behind the Skipper.

"Gilligan, pipe down!" The Skipper glanced around the room, clearly impressed. "This is a mighty big sickbay for a ship."

One corner of the Doctor's mouth twisted wryly. "Not big enough."

There was a soft hiss that startled several of the castaways and made Gilligan jump out of his skin, looking for a snake. A wall to their left split and opened into a doorway. A tall Indian-looking man with a tattoo and a woman who the Skipper thought resembled Kathryn Hepburn entered. They both wore uniforms identical to Tom's.

"Not much for fashion, are they?" Mrs. Howell whispered to Ginger.

The movie star grinned, a twinkle in her green eyes as she looked the man up and down. "It's not the fashion I'm interested in. It's what's inside it."

Gilligan too was staring at Voyager's first officer but for a completely different reason. "See Skipper, I told ya we're in trouble. Even the headhunters are in on it! Look at that tattoo!"

"Gilligan, headhunters don't wear shined shoes, now knock it off!" Before either of the new arrivals had a chance to speak the Skipper took the man's hand and pumped it vigorously. "You must be Captain Janeway. I'm the Skipper. You don't know how long we've been waiting for someone to find us!"

The man chuckled. "We are glad to help. But actually my name is Chakotay. _This_," He motioned to the woman. "Is Captain Janeway."

"Ep…_you're _the Captain?" The Skipper stammered, his mouth gaping open in shock. "B-but you're a _woman_!"

The Doctor looked stunned and Tom brought a fist to his mouth and disguised a small chuckle by clearing his throat.

Janeway swapped a quick, amused glance with Chakotay before taking the Skipper's hand, which was still half extended, and shook it. "I'm delighted you noticed."

The big man turned a dark shade of pink, instantly embarrassed. "Er…What I meant was. I've just never met a…well, a…"

"A female captain." She finished with a genuine smile. "It's understandable."

"Skipper, where are your manners?" Mr. Howell stepped up beside the Skipper, took Janeway's hand and gently kissed it. "We are terribly delighted to meet you, Captain."

"Yes." Mrs. Howell quickly joined him. "You can imagine what it's been like being stranded on an island without even one beauty parlor. You wouldn't have one on the ship would you?"

Mary Ann and Ginger quickly joined the cluster.

"Oh, thank you so very much!" Mary Ann said, the words tumbling from her mouth so quickly that one might have mistaken her for Gilligan. "I just can't imagine how we can repay you. We've been waiting to be rescued for such a long time and it so wonderful to see other people again that…

"It's wonderful to have a big handsome man come to our rescue." Ginger moved close to Chakotay and batted her long eyelashes at him. He smiled politely and then turned deliberately toward the Skipper who was also still thanking them.

"You'll be rewarded handsomely, of course." Mr. Howell was saying as the Sickbay doors opened wide revealing a grinning Neelix and cookie bearing Naomi.

There was a collective of shrieks and gasps as the castaways got their first glimpse of a Talaxian. Ginger clutched the Professor's arm while Mr. Howell ducked behind his wife.

"See! See I told you!" Gilligan cried triumphantly from his hiding place behind the Skipper.

Janeway threw up her hands in exasperation, managing to slip Neelix an irritated glance in the process.

Mrs. Howell was the only one nonplussed by the alien. "Oh, dear boy, wherever did you get that haircut?"

"Probably one of those Mosquito fans." Mr. Howell said, cowering behind his wife.

Neelix on the other hand was a little confused by the reaction commotion he seemed to have created. "I'm terribly sorry. We didn't mean to startle anyone."

"You don't need to be scared of us." Naomi said matter-of-factly. "We brought cookies."

Most of the castaways were still in a state of shock at seeing Neelix but the Professor had managed to keep his wits about him, most of them anyway. "I'm the Professor." He said extending a hand to the strangest looking man he had ever seen in his life.

"Neelix." His handshake was friendly and firm. "Delighted to meet you!"

The Professor tried not to gape openly but he simply couldn't help himself. "Forgive me for being so blunt, but may I ask where you are from?"

Before anyone could stop him Neelix answered. "Oh! I come from Rinax, the little moon that orbits Talax. You wouldn't know it. It's on the other side of the galaxy, you know. It's a lovely little place with lots of trees and..."

Tom smacked a hand against his forehead, Chakotay closed his eyes with a resigned sigh and Janeway just barely managed to keep herself from dropping her head in her hand. The Doctor rolled his eyes. "So much for the Prime Directive."


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter 9**

Janeway would have to have a discussion with Neelix about his timing. This situation was complicated enough without dropping the 'you're not the only sentient species in the Universe' bomb on them right away. She had hoped to slowly ease them into the idea but clearly it was too late for that now. "Neelix is our Moral Officer." She hoped the simple introduction would take a little of the edge off the startling revelation.

Neelix twiddled his fingers in a friendly wave.

The Skipper blinked a little at the familiar word. "Moral officer?"

Neelix nodded. "Of course I started out as a guide. You see, the Delta Quadrent is quite a daunting place and without an expert like myself…" His voice trailed off as he noticed the Captain shaking her head. Too much information, he realized and clamped his mouth shut.

The Professor stared at the odd little man before him with a mixture of awe and skepticism. "Are you trying to tell us you're an extraterrestrial?" This had to be some kind of practical joke…didn't it? It wasn't possible. It just wasn't possible. And yet if somehow it were true it would be the greatest scientific breakthrough since…since…no…it would be _the_ greatest scientific breakthrough ever made!

"An alien?" Mary Ann wasn't sure if she ought to be amazed or concerned.

"From outer space?" Ginger added, wide-eyed.

"Of course. We can't all be from Earth, you know." Neelix said with a grin and a good-natured chuckle. "If we were it would be a pretty crowded place.

"I can only imagine what Mr. Ripley would pay to meet you!" Mr. Howell exclaimed. "Forgery or not."

"Not much, with hair like that." Mrs. Howell answered, gesturing with one bejeweled hand to Neelix's fluffy, blonde mohawk. "Dear boy I _do _hope you're going to sue."

"See, Skipper! See!" Gilligan said triumphantly. "He said it himself. He's an alien!" He was gaining more courage now that he was surrounded by his friends and by the fact that no one had pulled a lazer gun on them yet.

"Gilligan, I'm sorry I doubted you!" The Skipper still stared, awestruck at Neelix, not a little humbled. "From now on, Little Buddy, if you say it I'll believe it."

Gilligan looked at his friend with a sly grin. "Really, Skipper?"

The Skipper nodded, never taking his eyes of the little alien. "Really."

"What if I said I won the Nobel Prize?"

"I'd believe it."

"What if I said King Kong was my math teacher?"

"I'd believe it!"

"What if I said I remembered to swab the deck without being asked?"

"Oh, come on, Gilligan. That's a little too much to ask."

"It's just not possible!" The Professor hadn't heard a word of the exchange. He was still gaping at Neelix, who simply smiled back. "It must be some sort of theatrical cosmetics."

Ginger shook her head. "Believe me, Professor, after all the movies I've been in I can tell a fake monster when I see one. That's not makeup."

Neelix forced himself not to frown at the comment. _Monster, indeed!_ But really he realized how strange he must look to them. Instead he decided to make a joke of it. "Makeup? Never! There's no way to improve a face like this."

"Well, there might be if you were more diligent in your shaving." Said Mrs. Howell. "You missed a couple spots."

"Oh, really?" Neelix patted the tufts of whiskers that lined his jaw as if he had no idea they had been there. Naomi giggled, knowing he was just being silly.

"Say, do you have those little radio things that come out of your head like _My Favorite Martian_?" Gilligan wiggled two index fingers near his forehead in demonstration.

"Not that I'm aware of."

The Professor was at a loss. This was so impossible that he could hardly wrap his brain around it. But the longer he looked at Neelix the more certain he became that he could not possibly be human. That enlongated skull, the tiny ears set far back on his head, the strange ridges on his temples, the cleft in his nose; no one could forge that. Even a genetic mutation couldn't produce _all_ these abnormalities at once. He looked to Janeway, the leader of this little group that had whisked them away from their island prison and asked a question he never in would have dreamed of asking. "Are we really on a spaceship?"

Tom, the Doctor and Chakotay all looked to Janeway. Their earlier meeting hadn't really discussed how they would handle a situation like this. But she saw no reason to hide this information from their visitors. The rules weren't exactly the same as they would have been if this were their own dimension. Janeway let out a deep resigned sigh, glanced at Chakotay for support then slowly nodded. "Yes."

There was a burst of astonished chatter among the castaways.

"I told you!" Gilligan said. "I told you there was a spac…" He stopped mid-sentence and stared at the plate Naomi held, actually seeing it for the first time. "Hey, are those cookies?"

"Yep." Naomi smiled up at him and held up the tray. "We heard you were sick so we looked up the recipe. Neelix says that a good cookie can always brighten a day."

Gilligan looked over to the odd, hairy alien and back to the little girl. He smiled back and took a cookie. "You know my grandma used to say that." As simple as that any suspicions left in Gilligan's mind vanished. No one who made cookies and talked like his grandmother could possibly be bad.

The others were still chattering over one another.

"I can't believe it. Gilligan was right!"

"Spaceship! I thought there was no such thing!"

"Are we in space? How did we…"

"What is its method of propulsion? Is it nuclear? How do you counteract the.."

"Are we very high up?"

"I'd like to buy stock in the company! Can you imagine what I could charge for a tour of the galaxy? I'd make a million! I mean, of course, _another_ million."

"You think if someone went through so much trouble to build a spaceship they'd at least add a few curtains."

"Hey, guys. These cookies are great!"

Janeway held up both hands, begging for silence, all the while giving Tom a glance that seemed to blame all this confusion on him. He just grinned. "I understand how confusing this must be for you." She said, loud enough to stop the unintelligible mass of questions. If anything was going to be accomplished here she needed to bring the sudden panic under control. "But I will try to answer some of your questions."

"One at a time, though. Please." Chakotay added.

Gilligan was the first to speak up. He had effectively swapped his fear with exuberant curiosity. "So are all of you really aliens in human form like the '_Shapeshifter That Ate the World'_?"

Janeway shook her head trying to suppress a smile. This little guy was full of outrageous misinformation. But considering that Tom Paris's holonovel 'Captain Proton' was modeled after this era's view on the future she shouldn't have been surprised. "Mr. Neelix is Talaxian, Naomi is half human and half Katarian, but Mr. Paris, Mr. Chakotay and I are bonafied human. And as handy as it would be none of us are shapeshifters." None of the castaways seemed to notice that she had discreetly left out the Doctor.

"And were not really into world eating." Tom couldn't help but add. "It gives us indigestion."

Surprisingly Mary Ann was the next to speak. "Where are we…um…exactly?" She asked meekly.

"We're on Voyager, a large starship." Janeway said, not certain if she would have to define 'starship'. "And we're orbiting several miles above Earth."

"You mean we really are in _space?_" Mary Ann's brown eyes widened into perfect circles.

"Yes."

"Well, at least were off that blasted island." Mr. Howell said.

"What was that thing Gilligan saw?" The Skipper asked.

"A piece of our equipment was damaged and crash landed on your island." Janeway spread her hands in apology. "I'm afraid that a leak in the propulsion system is what made you sick."

"You mean all that hissing white stuff?" Gilligan asked.

The Doctor nodded. "Yes. It was radioactive. _You_ wouldn't even have survived if it wasn't for some quick thinking by yours truly." He puffed out his chest just a little and Tom rolled his eyes at the blaring self-promotion.

The Skipper swallowed and looked over at Gilligan, remembering how pale and still the young man had been just before he had blacked out. Apparently he had come a lot closer to losing his little buddy than he had realized.

"Radioactive?" The Professor's eyebrows shot up. "No wonder we became so ill."

"Wait…You mean it's poisonous?!" Gilligan exclaimed.

"That's why we found those poor little birds!" Mary Ann added in realization. She looked wide-eyed from Janeway to the Doctor. "You…you didn't just rescue us. You saved our lives didn't you?"

The Doctor gave her a small nod, almost as if tipping a non existent hat. "It was a pleasure."

"What about Rex Stonecypher and Arnold and Sam?" Gilligan asked, his young face twisted in worry. "Will they be alright?"

The Doctor was instantly alarmed. "There are still people down there? Why didn't you say so before? Captain, we have to bring them up right away!"

"Not people." The Skipper waved one meaty hand, completely dismissing the subject. "His pets. He's talking about turtles and birds."

Gilligan frowned at the flippancy in the Captain's comment. "Skipper, animals are people too!"

"I agree." Chakotay said, moving over and placing a hand on Gilligan's shoulder.

"You do?" He looked up in surprise at the man with the tattoo.

"Yes. I do." His calm voice sounded completely sincere. Gilligan decided that he really didn't look like a headhunter after all. "And we are doing our best to clean up that area so no more animals will be hurt."

Ginger moved a little closer to Voyager's tall commander. "I just love a man who sticks up for poor defenseless animals." She said in her most sultry voice. "You know I was in a movie once about an Indian who was an animal rights activist. It was called 'Picket Sign of the Beaver".

"That's…interesting." Chakotay said as he took a discreet step to his left, trying not to be visibly cold but also wanting to keep at least some distance between himself and the movie star. There was a stifled snicker and he knew Tom was being thoroughly entertained at his expense.

He deliberately turned his attention back to Gilligan who was still looking extremely concerned.

"I hope they're alright." The young man said quietly, thinking about what the Doctor had said. "I'd hate to get back and they were sick…or something."

"Gilligan," The Skipper shook his head with a roll of his eyes. "We've been rescued. Do you really think we are going _back_ to that god forsaken island?"

"Don't worry, Gilligan." Chakotay gave the boy an encouraging smile. "Only a small area is contaminated. Hopefully your friends will know enough to stay away."

Gilligan nodded, quickly convincing himself that everything would be okay. "I've known a lot of animals and most of 'em are pretty smart. I mean, Sam is a whole gang all by himself. I don't know many people who can be five guys at once."

"Sam is a parrot." Mary Ann explained, noticing the confused looks of Voyager's crew. It didn't help much.

Tom chuckled again and leaning close to the Doctor he whispered. "I love that episode."

"You _would_ be impressed with him." The Skipper mumbled sarcastically. "You and your bird brain."

"I've always liked birds." Neelix said cheerfully. "You know, when I was a boy I had a pygmy mquint. It's rather like your Terran finches but with teeth. It took a lot of hard work but I managed to teach him to sing the Telaxian National Anthem." He gave them a proud grin that soon deteriorated into a wry small shrug. "Of course then we couldn't get him to _stop_ singing it."

"We used to have chickens." Mary Ann chimed in. "But none of them were very smart."

"Well, of course not, Dear." Mrs. Howell waved a gloved hand. "Chicken feathers are hardly fashionable anymore."

"Just watch." Tom whispered so only the Doctor could hear. "Mr. Howell will say something about pheasant."

"Pheasant, of course, _is_ in." Mr. Howell said with a chuckle. "But before you wear it you've got to remove the glass!"

The Doctor rolled his eyes as Tom gave a small triumphant fist-pump.

The Professor couldn't help but interrupt the absurd conversation. He had so many questions he could scarcely decide on which to ask first. Finally he opted for: "How fast can the ship travel? What is the method of propulsion?"

"Voyager can travel up to warp 9.9 and we have both warp and impulse engines." Janeway deliberately kept her technical answers in terms far above their visitor's heads. They probably wouldn't have understood the principal science behind it but at the moment she wanted to play it safe. Besides she felt this really wasn't the time to go into warp theory with people who didn't even know what dilithium was.

"Warp 9.9?" Gilligan's eyes widened in amazement. "Did you hear that, Skipper? Who'd ever think somethin' could go that fast!"

The Skipper rolled his eyes. "Gilligan, you don't even know what that means."

"I bet it's faster than Jimmy McCallister's roadster!"

Tom grinned. "About several billion times."

"Boy I bet it'd be great with the top down."

"Gilligan will shut up and stop trying to show everyone what an idiot you are? You don't know anything about spaceships."

"Sure I do, Skipper. I watch Buck Rogers."

There was a smart 'thwack' as the Skipper's hat made contact with Gilligan's head and Voyager crew collectively winced. Such methods of crew management were certainly not Starfleet regulation. The Skipper didn't even notice as he shoved his hat back on his head.

Neelix's mouth dropped open and he looked as if he were about to give the Skipper a scolding.

Janeway spoke up before he had a chance to get a word out. The Skipper's actions had annoyed her as well but this simply wasn't the time to discuss it. "Mr. Neelix perhaps you would like to start on lunch. I'm sure our guests will be hungry after their ordeal."

The Talaxian nodded eagerly. "Of course, Captain. I'll get on it right away!"

"Cook lunch?" Mary Ann's brown eyes lit up. "You have a kitchen on the ship?"

Neelix grinned. "Of course! I designed it myself."

"I would love to see it! Why, I haven't been in a real kitchen for a whole year!"

"I too would like to see more of this amazing craft." The Professor stepped forward barely containing his excitement. He was only inches away from jumping up and down like a schoolboy.

"Yeah!" Gilligan agreed. "And we'd like to see the ship too!"

"We'll take the _grand_ tour of course." Mr. Howell added.

"I would be happy to give them a tour, Captain." Tom said, begging with those blue puppy dog eyes. It was the same look he had when he wanted to enter the Delta Flyer in that race.

Janeway gave him a straight-lipped glare that said 'I wish you hadn't asked that'. Her Prime Directive driven captain senses were telling her to say 'no'. But she recalled what Tom and B'lanna had explained earlier. The only thing these people could possibly change in Voyager's dimension would be a bit of dialogue on a tv show. But did she really have the right to change someone else's history? Then again it couldn't be any worse than she had already done. She gave a stiff nod. "Alright." She wondered wryly if Temporal Police had jurisdiction in alternate dimensions. If so she was certainly committing a major felony. But the ecstatic grin that exploded across Tom's face was well worth it. "Assign them quarters as well." She added.

The pilot nodded.

"It was very nice to meet all of you." Janeway nodded politely to the castaways. "But Mr. Chakotay and I have some things we need to do. Any more questions you have Mr. Paris would be delighted to answer." And she and Chakotay turned to leave.

Mary Ann put up a hesitant hand and stepped forward. "Ms. Janeway?"

Janeway turned with a small smile. "You can call me 'Captain'."

"Captain, thank you for saving us."

Her smile broadened and she gave Mary Ann a nod. "You're most welcome." And she left, her first mate trailing behind her.

The Skipper pushed his hat back and scratched the top of his head as he watched them leave. "Huh. A woman captain. Who would have thought…"

"Forget about her." Ginger stared dreamily at the door. "What a hunk of tanned man!"

"Bye!" Naomi, the last one to leave waved cheerfully as the doors closed behind her.

Tom clapped his hands and rubbed them together briskly. "Whelp, are we ready for a tour?"

The Doctor picked up his tricorder. "I hate to delay this exciting excursion." He sounded anything but sorry. "But I really need to examine all of you before you go gallivanting about the ship."

Gilligan's eyes lit up. "Are we really going gallivanting? I've never even gallivanted on Earth let alone in _space_!"

Tom gave the Doctor a knowing glance. "Wait for it…"

After a moment Gilligan's excitement morphed into nose scrunching puzzlement. "Doctor, what is gallivanting?"

Tom grinned. "See?"

**AN: So sorry this took so long!**


	10. Chapter 10

"Bridge." Janeway said as the doors to the turbolift closed. She glanced up at Chakotay and frowned curiously at the odd grin on his face. "What?"

He gave a small chuckle. "I was just thinking of the look on the Skipper's face when he found out _you _were the captain."

She laughed and shook her head. "I'll never forget! The poor man, I think he was more startled about that than finding out Neelix was an alien." She gave him a poke in the arm. "But that wasn't half as funny as you trying to stay away from Ginger."

He rolled his eyes heavenward and let out a small huff that wasn't entirely devoid of humor. "_That_ wasn't funny. I believe that woman is carnivorous."

"I wouldn't doubt it." Janeway gave him a grin that twinkled with mischief. "Cannibal and headhunter. Sounds like a perfect match to me."

He laughed. "As a Maquis I've been called a lot of things in my life. But 'headhunter'…that's definitely a first."

They were both laughing heartily as the turbolift doors opened. Both were met by curious stares from the bridge crew. Chakotay cleared his throat, avoiding the looks as he walked briskly to his seat. Janeway straightened, tugged her jacket crisply in place and strode very somberly to the Captain's chair as if she hadn't just been giggling like a schoolgirl.

"Status report." She barked out the order as if to clear all that laughter from her throat.

Harry tapped at his console. "The wormhole is holding stable." He said and as an afterthought added: "And they fixed the science station."

They glanced over to the station that had exploaded in a shower of sparks during their transition through the wormhole. It had been completely repaired and there was now an officer there working diligently.

Chakotay nodded his approval. "That was fast."

"Well, Tall Dark and Indian, we have an efficient crew."

Neither Captain, nor first mate could quite contain a laugh and the crew was graced with a synchronized: "SNERK!"

0oo0

Naomi looked up at Neelix as they walked down the corridor toward the Mess Hall. A perplexed frown creased her young forehead. "Neelix?"

He glanced down at her. "Yes?"

"How come Captain Janeway told them all that stuff?"

He cocked one whiskered eyebrow. "All what 'stuff'?"

"About being in space and on a starship. Aren't they from the past? Wouldn't telling them those things break the Temporal Prime Directive?"

He grinned and shook a finger at her. "I see someone's been studying up on Starfleet's policies."

She nodded proudly, sending her long red hair bouncing in a wave down her back. "I've got to if I want to be Captain's Assistant."

"Well, they're not from our past. They're from another dimension…or something." He twiddled his spotted fingers in the air as if to wave the subject off. "It's all very complicated. I don't even understand it myself. But apparently we're not going to change the timeline. Only a bit of the tv show these fellows are from."

"Oh." She nodded again. "Neelix?"

"Yes?"

"What's a tv show?"

**Technically this should be a tag on the end of Chapter 9. But I wrote it after I posted that chapter so here it is anywhoo. I'll probably attatch the two later.**


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